Royals
by Kryzanna
Summary: No one had ever told Imayoshi how dull being a king could be. He's bored stiff by the monotony of Touou's castle life; his daughter refuses to marry, and his nephew is always off god knows where, doing god knows what. The unexpected arrival of Kagami Taiga promises to stir things up...But no one could have ever anticipated just how much.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the start of a new fic! I haven't started anything new for so long, so I thought I might give it a shot. Hopefully this helps me start writing a lot more, so, here we are; I hope you enjoy! Just a bit of an intro-chapter, so I hope you stick around for future ones!**

**Pairings: AoKaga, KasaKise  
>Warning: may contain coarse language, sexual references, yaoi and violence<strong>**  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket or any of its characters  
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><p>It really was a rather dismal day for summer. Rather unfortunate, really, seeing how the kingdom of Touou was renowned for being almost overwhelmingly pleasant this time of year. More so unfortunate because the greying skies visible through the wide windows of the castle's throne room were having a wearying effect on its King.<p>

The world looked like Imayoshi Shouichi currently felt. Tired, and quite frankly, rather bored. Holding court in times of peace was never a stimulating experience; it was all land, money, marriage and overly polite greetings from neighbouring kingdoms. Once upon a war, there might have been talk of traitors and executions and dark deeds in the corners of the kingdom; but those days were long gone, and all those exciting possibilities with them.

They never did tell you how bloody dull being a king could be.

These days, instead of dealing out punishments and hearing out crimes, he was handing out gold and listening to rich nobles bitch about how much land they thought they needed, and admittedly spending too much time musing over how he could best redecorate the throne room. Today was no exception, and he was finding himself most preoccupied with trying to figure out what exactly he disliked about the room's current colour scheme.

It was proving rather difficult, due to the fact that there was a distracting, extravagantly dressed man prancing about below the dais –most probably bleating about what Imayoshi considered his least favourite topic.

His only daughter's hand in marriage.

This man wasn't the first of the day, though he was admittedly the most pompous, and by far the _least_ likely to convince the Crown Princess, Momoi Satsuki, that his son was a suitable match for her. Knowing that his daughter more than likely already had her rejection prepared for when the poor man drew breath, Imayoshi pushed away the urge to yawn and straightened his shoulders; he was at least well-bred enough to look like a king even when he didn't really feel like being one.

It took only a glance to confirm that his daughter was doing much better than himself at feigning interest in whatever the flashy nobleman had to say. She was the picture of elegance; a true beauty to behold, if Imayoshi did say so himself –though really, he felt he could take no credit seeing as she was the spitting image of her mother. Hands folded, bright pink eyes wide in apparent attentiveness –it was no wonder that the man wasn't shutting up; he seemed convinced that she was going to accept the match to his son.

But this man –or rather, the son he was so vibrantly describing –was no different from the rest of the dozens of suitors chasing after his daughter's hand. And so, Imayoshi knew with certainty that once again, his daughter's heart was going to be left unclaimed.

It was exhausting.

And as much as Imayoshi enjoyed seeing the looks of disappointment and frustration on their faces when Satsuki crushed their hopes for a queen as a daughter-in-law…there was only so much embellished flattery he could stomach.

The crowd though; they seemed to be lapping it up, though it was difficult to tell who was in support of this particular match, and who frankly didn't care as long as there was some kind of spectacle. It was quite a gathering today; it always was when Satsuki took audiences –Imayoshi could never quite fathom why she seemed more popular, though she seemed to have an idea or two why, that he didn't care to hear.

More interesting than the fellow below the dais, however, was that horrendous green monstrosity of a tapestry hanging from one of the back pillars. And ever more interesting than the thing itself was why on earth he'd allowed it to continue hanging there for so long.

But, distracted by the sudden urge to redecorate, or not, Imayoshi was still an ever-perceptive king; one didn't get to marry into the royal family without some wile, at least –and he was sharp enough to notice a familiar blond-haired officer lingering around one of the nearby side entrances to the throne room. Upon catching his king's gaze, he bowed his head slightly and fidgeted rather expectantly, as though waiting to be summoned over. Lightly rolling his eyes, Imayoshi beckoned gently with one thin finger, and the grave-faced soldier approached his throne –looking undeniably wearied himself…and a little irritated.

As soon as he was within earshot, Imayoshi let out as dramatic a sigh as he could get away with in front of such an audience.

"Oh, _please_ tell me we're being attacked," he remarked in a low tone; doing nothing to disguise the boredom in his voice. And of course, as Wakamatsu stiffened, he belated remembered, once again, that when you are a king, your subordinates seem to take everything you say so seriously.

"Why would we be being attacked, your majesty?" Wakamatsu immediately growled, and Imayoshi had the overwhelming urge to flinch at how just slightly above whisper his voice always seemed to rise unnecessasily, "Should we be _expecting_ an attack?" His right hand slowly drifted to his hip; gripping the hilt of his sword warily as though there was potential for a fight right upon the dais. "….Has someone made a threat?" Imayoshi was fast regretting ever trying to make the most of what had likely been about to be a very boring conversation.

"Lower your voice, Wakamatsu…"

" –It was that bastard Hanamiya, wasn't it?"

"_King_ Hanamiya, to you, Wakamatsu," Imayoshi sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead and pointedly ignoring what was likely a muffled snicker from the shadows behind his throne. He held out a hand to calm the guard, "…I was merely being melodramatic. Stand down; you'll cause a scene." He shook his head helplessly as Wakamatsu slowly relaxed once more, nodding shortly in acknowledgement that he understood that there was no immediate threat.

"…And besides…" Imayoshi snickered with a small, sly smile, "Hanamiya would never openly declare war –though he does send the most amusing letters." He chuckled to himself almost fondly, and rather enjoyed the look of bafflement that crossed Wakamatsu's face at the mere notion of the fabled King Hanamiya being _amusing._

Glancing over his shoulder just slightly, he added, quite innocently, "In fact, have we heard from him recently, Midorima?"

There was definitely an element of tension to the silence that followed his question, highlighted by the resigned, mildly irritated way that his attendant replied from the shadows, "…Not since you last asked this morning, your majesty." If he had've been younger, and any less of a royal, Imayoshi might have snickered.

"Such a pity," he sighed instead; genuinely disappointed. He was about to return to his critique of the room when he realized that the blond guard must have been loitering in the hallway for some reason.

"Ah; now for business. How are we today, Wakamatsu?" he began; a second attempt at catching his attention. Wakamatsu too, seemed to have forgotten that he had come to the throne room with purpose, and appeared startled by the sudden resuming of conversation.

"It looks like a storm's coming, Your Majesty," he replied gruffly, with a quick glance towards the nearest window as if to provide evidence for his claim.

"…How perceptive of you," Imayoshi sighed dryly, "And I asked how _you_ were, my good sir, _not_ for a report on the weather." He glanced reproachfully up at his officer over his glasses, but didn't allow the man to stumble an apology before adding, "But a storm could do us some good. We could use a little excitement…" Almost as if it to prove his point, he found his attention abruptly drawn back to that particularly ugly piece of décor.

"…That really is the ugliest tapestry…Again, Wakamatsu; did you have some news?" He was fast growing tired of this, and he prayed that Satsuki would hurry up and send her newest suitor scurrying. "…Something exciting? Movement on the border perhaps? A royal escort? _Anything_?"

"…Nothing like that, your majesty," Wakamatsu assured him flatly, obviously wondering if he was being mocked for his earlier misinterpretation. Imayoshi simply cocked an eyebrow expectantly. "Oh. We've just received word from the western kingdoms…."

" –Was it a letter, or our dear Second Captain's head in a sack?" Imayoshi inquired, his interest in the matter extinguished as soon as the soldier solemnly replied that it was the former. Good news was good news, he supposed, but rarely of note, these days. "Was that really all?"

"Oh, no, your majesty…" Wakamatsu muttered, irritation leaking into his voice and across his face –a sure giveaway as to what he was about to say.

"…You lost him again, didn't you?" Imayoshi spared him the indignity of having to admit to yet another humiliating defeat. He was vaguely aware of Satsuki speaking, and couldn't resist turning his attention to the somewhat deflating nobleman –there _was_ something most satisfying about watching the way their faces always fought to remain respectful when they were obviously slighted.

"I don't understand how he keeps slipping away from us!" Wakamatsu growled through gritted teeth, and this time the king actually did flinch at the slight rise in volume. Brilliant swordsman his guard might be, but he really did lack a sense of delicacy.

"Did you check all his favourite spots?"

"Of course, your majesty," the soldier snorted flatly, with less-than-concealed irritation. "We can't find him." Imayoshi had the feeling that Wakamatsu definitely had a lot more to say on the matter but nothing of which was appropriate for present company. He sighed in resignation, eyeing the way that flashy nobleman was backing away from the dais with such disappointed bows –it seemed confirmed that his daughter's latest suitor was as an unsuccessful as the rest.

"It can't be helped," he shrugged dismissively, waving the guard away, "He'll come out when he's hungry or something, I'm sure." He was sure that he heard Wakamatsu's teeth grating together in frustration as he took his leave to join the ranks of the guards positioned around the throne room –ready to begin ushering out the crowd at the princess's word.

Finally, it seemed that the failed suitor had departed the throne room to nurse his ego, and of course, the murmurs started up on cue, rippling through the crowd and up into the balconies that overlooked the entire hall. Imayoshi took the time to roll his shoulders and let out a sigh of relief that attracted a most scathing look from his royal daughter.

"I take it you're not engaged yet?" Imayoshi inquired flatly, a single eyebrow raised in disapproval as he noted the way the nobles all began whispering amongst themselves upon the balconies. Somehow, (and he highly suspected the servant's grapevine), the nobles all seemed to know when a proposition to the princess was scheduled to occur, and liked to dress up in all their finery and observe, and frankly, judge. No doubt those whispers now were equal parts annoyed that once again they were being denied a royal wedding, and relieved that the princess was still available for courting.

Satsuki gave him a look; raised eyebrows and all, to remind him that they were still holding court, but took the time to quietly retort, "We've been through this, father." Yes, he was very much aware of that. She lifted her chin almost defiantly, smoothing out the creases of her gown before delicately folding her hands in her lap. "I will marry who I wish to marry."

"And who is that, might I ask?" Imayoshi inquired wearily; already knowing the answer. For a second, she gazed out towards the shifting crowd with that queenly smile of hers, and Imayoshi was almost convinced that she might not reply.

He was not so lucky.

"…The man I'm in love with," Satsuki finally answered, sticking her nose in the air and waiting patiently to see if any others stepped up to seek an audience with her. Imayoshi sighed and rubbed at a crease in his forehead as he heard the crowd fidgeting –it seemed as though the ever-darkening sky outside was causing them some concern.

"Well, would you kindly ask him to hurry along and seek your hand in marriage?" Imayoshi quietly grumbled as sarcastically as he dared, knowing full well that there was not currently –nor had there ever been –such a man.

He was beginning to wonder if she was refusing to marry just to spite him.

"Can't you just pick one?" he muttered, feeling an unpleasant sense of déjà vu, and knowing exactly how this would end. It was perhaps, unroyal of the pair of them to bicker in public, but the buzzing of the crowd easily drowned them out, and the audience at least forced them both to maintain a certain level of decorum. "How was your trip to Rakuzan? I hear Prince Akashi is…._well-bred_…?"

"Just because someone is well-bred doesn't mean I'll love them!" Satsuki huffed, allowing the smallest of pouts to reach her lips. "_You_ were well-bred, after all, father. And mother only settled for you."

"You're so unkind, sweet daughter," Imayoshi sighed mockingly; most unphased by her tone and playful insult, and once again reminded of why he found this ever-repetitive argument most grating. From somewhere behind him, he could practically hear his attendant –Midorima –rolling his eyes; the ever-present man had borne witness to as many of these arguments as the king himself, and enjoyed them about as much.

"I want to marry for love," the princess sighed wistfully, her eyes softening as she gazed out into some whimsical dream that Imayoshi could only shudder to imagine. All those childhood stories of fantastical romances had put all these silly ideals into her head, and were now proving _most_ troublesome.

"Yes, yes, so you've said; many, _many_ times…" he muttered with an eye roll of his own. "But could you perhaps hurry up about it? Frankly, you should already have been married by now–" Most princesses were at least _betrothed_ by sixteen, and here she was; twenty-three and still refusing matches. " –And the noble houses are pushing for a royal wedding..."

"…Why does that have to be me?" she mumbled, sounding just a little forlorn, and then looking across the dais to the third throne that so oft sat embarrassingly empty. "I _do_ have a cousin."

"Oh, do you?" Imayoshi remarked in his lightest tone; sarcasm only thinly veiled, "I'd completely forgotten, seeing as I haven't seen him in weeks." He huffed, looking over his shoulder innocently to see that his attendant was hovering in the shadows as faithfully and poised as ever. "What about you, Midorima? When was the last time you saw that useless nephew of mine?"

" –Don't call him that," Satsuki pouted, before the king's attendant could give an answer. Imayoshi couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"…It's a pet name," he assured her, though he doubted she believed him for a second. There was a low rumble of thunder in the distance and it seemed to make the crowd more restless. It appeared as though all those who had come to the castle on business had spoken already, so the princess elegantly rose to her feet to announce that that would be all for the day –and thus free her obviously bored father from his obligation to act interested.

Almost as if the thunder had heralded the clouds bursting, rain began to fall.

Imayoshi gazed lazily out the window, eyeing the way the sky had darkened over considerably. He was already looking forward to a hot bath, and removing the crown from his head –the ugly thing was making his neck ache. That was something they never told you about either –every man and his ancestors could tell you about the weight of responsibility that a crown brought, but no one ever thought to mention how damn _heavy_ the thing was.

He was about to ask Midorima to fetch a servant to start filling a bath for him, but his attendant was first to speak, emerging from the shadows of the throne to bend so that his lips rested next to his king's ear.

"Your majesty," he murmured, a touch of ice gone from his low voice, but replaced with something else that made Imayoshi tense, without knowing why. He paused, listening intently for whatever news that the young man had received while he'd been distracted. How any if the servants were brave enough to come scuttling up to whisper in Midorima's ear, he'd never know; even to a king he was an intimidating presence. But Midorima obviously knew how to use the servant grapevine to his advantage, and obviously this was important enough for them to overcome their wariness of the stony-faced attendant.

Thunder growled out through the blackening sky; rain pattering against the thick stone walls of the castle and when Midorima continued, it was in a low, distasteful tone.

"There are Kirisaki men outside."

"Kirisaki…" Imayoshi mused quietly, his brow creasing in polite surprise, "How many?"

"Fo –_five_, I believe, your majesty." Midorima straightened, adjusting his glasses and nodding towards the huge oak door of the throne room. "…They claim to be here by order of their King." The young man might as well have spat the final word; his disdain was clear enough.

"Father?" Satsuki inquired warily, obviously concerned by the way Imayoshi straightened in his throne a little, allowing a small, sly smile to cross his face.

"Well, we can't have Hanamiya hearing we didn't make his men most welcome, can we?" he tittered playfully, "I doubt I'd hear the end of it."

"I was under the impression they _weren't_ welcome here," Midorima sniffed flatly.

"Oh, they're not, but we best keep up appearances," Imayoshi replied –too lightly. But then his voice changed, to something that both his daughter and his attendant knew was a bad sign –a sign of trouble in the making.

"Send them in."

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><p>A hush descended upon the throne room.<p>

It was the banner, perhaps, that washed the room in silence. It was strangely torn and muddied and obviously damp from the rain, but there was no mistaking the markings it bore –eight red eyes upon a dirty grey field –the standard of Kirisaki Daiichi; the banner of the cruel King Hanamiya Makoto.

Or perhaps it was the men that caused the breath to catch in the throats of those looking on. Four were soldiers –the foremost bearing the banner. They were in grey armour –or parts of it, at least; and what they still had was scuffed and bloodied and coated in fresh mud. As they shambled across the floor, water dripped from their clothes and mud fell in their wake, and the townsfolk shrank back from them –for the men of Kirisaki Daiichi were feared as much as their King.

They were an interesting four, Imayoshi had to admit. So few, to be so far from their kingdom, and so injured, too?

And then there was the fifth man. If the crowd was shrinking away from the Kirisaki soldiers, then their eyes were drawn to _him_.

The muddiest and bloodiest of all five, he stumbled along in their centre –a prisoner, if the makeshift collar of rope tight about his throat was any indicator. It was that that the banner-man was yanking on to draw on him onwards, and though he was hunched over almost double, with every step Imayoshi spied a jaw clenching in pain. It was no wonder, really; the man's feet were bare and scraped and leaving prints of blood upon the stone.

"More light…" Satsuki murmured quietly, directed at Midorima; forgetting herself momentarily and letting a trace of unease slip into her voice. At a word, servants went scurrying along the walls, lighting torches and banging shutters closed to keep out the rain.

It was eerie, the unrest Kirisaki could bring to a room.

The soldiers drew to a halt when they reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the dais upon which Imayoshi and his daughter resided. Imayoshi recognised the banner-man now; Furuhashi, if he recalled correctly. He would know those dead eyes by any kind of firelight. Their prisoner stopped too; face hung low and concealed by shaggy, muddy hair. He lacked armour; lacked weaponry –looked as ragged as street rat, really, though there was a thickness to his shoulders and strength in his stance that seemed at odds with his appearance.

For what purpose would four military men drag him before a king?

"…You're a long way from home," Imayoshi cordially mused aloud, evenly meeting the flat-eyed gaze of the banner-man. All eyes turned to face the King of Touou, sitting now with such ease upon the throne and gazing down at the newcomers with practiced superiority.

"…Your Majesty, King Imayoshi. Princess Momoi," Furuhashi greeted stiffly, dipping his head with difficulty, as though the act of bowing physically pained him. "We bring greetings from King Hanamiya."

"So few of you," Imayoshi stated lightly –a tone easily read as mocking. His comment had a soft whisper of agreement rise up from the nobles watching from the balconies. "Should I be insulted that your King thinks so little of our friendship?"

"Begging your…._pardon,_ your majesty," Furuhashi interjected flatly, "We were a large company, but we ran into trouble upon the river to the south. Many of our men may have been swept downstream."

"That river _is_ prone to flash floods …" Imayoshi admitted with a small shrug, getting to his feet as his curiosity began to get the better of him. "And though I am sorry for the loss of your comrades, I must ask; greetings aside…For what, do my daughter and I owe the pleasure of your company?" He held out a hand to Satsuki, and felt her tentatively take it; rising from the throne and following him towards the stone steps.

Was it his imagination, or did those Kirisaki men just _snicker_?

Furuhashi simply bowed stiffly once more, and gestured with one hand towards the prisoner, as if this was all the explanation necessary. He stepped aside as Imayoshi descended the steps, growing more suspicious and ever more intrigued. These men had hastened to the castle without a care for their company; what was so important about their task? If this was some kind of trap –and it would not be unlike Hanamiya to be laying traps –it seemed inelegant.

"Hmm…" he hummed, wondering if he should be insulted. He glanced down towards the prisoner; still hanging his head and either unable or refusing to meet his gaze. "…And who might this delightful creature be?"

There was silence in the throne room, broken only by an ominous toll of thunder. Imayoshi raised an eyebrow expectantly at the banner-man, as though waiting for at least _someone _to answer him. Instead of doing so, however, Furuhashi simply gave a violent yank on the rope he was holding, sending the man toppling face-first to the stone ground with a deep, choking cry. A gasp of shock ran through the frozen crowd, and the prisoner twitched on the stones, struggling to draw in breath. Even Satsuki, standing a pace behind him, flinched at the cruel display.

"And how is he supposed to answer me now?" Imayoshi remarked lightly, his eyes narrowing. "Cut him free."

"Your majesty; he's dangerous…"

" –Begging the question why you've brought him to me," he interrupted, his voice laced with ice that allowed for no argument. He was a king, and he didn't trust anything that had root in Kirisaki. "Cut him free."

There was a brief pause in which the four soldiers exchanged eye contact as though considering refusing a direct order. But then one of them stepped forwards, dirty knife in hand, and severed the ropes binding the prisoner's throat and wrists. For a moment, he just lay there on the stone, shoulders heaving as he drank in deep gulps of air and wrestled his arms to his sides.

With sudden, astonishing speed, the prisoner lashed out; lunging on injured limbs for the knife that had been used to free him. The crowd recoiled, and it's princess with it, but Imayoshi watched; transfixed, at the powerful arm that reached out with purpose. He stared at the way that hand twisted the Kirisaki soldier's wrist until the blade clattered to the floor –watched as the prisoner desperately scrambled to his feet, only to stumble with a cry of pain as his own bleeding soles finally betrayed him.

And even as one of the Kirisaki men kicked him to his knees; even as one of them brought the heavy hilt of a blade down on his hand and forced him to yield the stolen weapon, Imayoshi caught a flash of brilliant red eyes peering out from under that matted hair. Red eyes that glimmered in the torchlight; red eyes burning with a kind of life that had never been birthed by Kirisaki Daiichi.

The boots that the soldiers were must have been heavy, and the kicks none too kind, but the prisoner didn't cry out. He'd managed only a moment on his feet and now he was back on his knees; head bowed and hands planted into the ground; shaking but refusing to give out.

"Speak," Imayoshi commanded casually, sounding much as though it were a suggestion, "Or have they cut your tongue out?" The whispers were starting again now, and he could hazard some of what they might say. More cruel things about Kirisaki, most likely –not that King Hanamiya needed any more of those to make foreigners wary of his kingdom. But it seemed that the crowd too, commonfolk and noble alike, were just as eager as Imayoshi to know who this man was.

The man's chest heaved, and his fists clenched against the stone. Slowly –making no further move to attack, he levered himself up until he was resting on his knees; head cast to the floor. And Imayoshi knew that those eyes were glaring holes through even the solid rock.

It was a hoarse whisper –a thick, raspy growl, but Imayoshi heard it, just as his daughter had heard it. And Imayoshi couldn't help but feel an impressed smirk spread across his face as he understood.

"Kagami...Taiga," the man wheezed, and then let out one shuddering breath to steady his voice to repeat –much stronger, this time, "…My name is Kagami Taiga."

It was Satsuki who broke the silence that followed.

"Kagami Taiga?" she whispered, almost in disbelief, slowly moving down the stairs to stand beside her father. Even then, she had to look up at him in confirmation, "…The prince?"

"He's no prince, your majesty," one of Furuhashi's men snickered, a snide smirk plastered across his face, apparently unable to resist delivering a kick in the ribs to his motionless charge.

"He is," Imayoshi corrected softly, rubbing his chin mostly to conceal his smile from his daughter. Oh, Hanamiya played a very good game, didn't he? It really was _so_ inappropriate to laugh now but really, he had to give the man some credit… He truly never could have imagined this. "...And I must ask; is he the sole reason that your King sent you here?"

"Making sure he was delivered to you was his only order, your majesty," Furuhashi answered, giving Imayoshi all the confirmation he required. Putting on his most polite smile, he beckoned for Wakamatsu to come forwards, whilst tutting most condescendingly to the Kirisaki men.

" –And _this_ is your king's idea of a formal escort?" he remarked mockingly; gesturing at the ropes, "Although I suppose King Hanamiya didn't see any need in asking that the young prince be delivered unharmed?"

"He tried to escape," Furuhashi answered flatly.

" –And I can't think why," Imayoshi replied just as flatly.

"He tried to kill us."

"And _again_, I can't for the life of me think why he would want to do such a thing," he tittered; his voice light but his eyes sharp –he'd noticed the bruises and the cuts and way the skin on this _Kagami_'s wrists was rubbed raw. "…He did put up quite the fight though, it would seem –did he _bite_ your finger off?" he added, addressing the snide-smirked man with grey hair –the one nursing a bandaged hand that appeared to be missing a finger. The smirk faded.

"No, your majesty. That was…something else."

"Hmm," Imayoshi rumbled as Wakamatsu fidgeted at his side –warily eyeing the man still panting on his knees, "It's strange, but you really do hear a lot about Kirisaki men missing fingers. One day I'm really going to have to puzzle that out, you know." He could tell that Satsuki was curious and full of questions, but restricting herself to simply staring down at the prince who had been dragged to her castle like some kind of condemned wretch.

"Wakamatsu," Imayoshi remarked, almost cheerfully –something that had his officer looking almost insultingly concerned, "Would you please find my lovely nephew?" He was greeted with a raised eyebrow in response.

"…Are you actually talking about the prince?" Wakamatsu deadpanned, "…Or do you have another nephew I should be searching for?"

"_Find Aomine_," Imayoshi ordered once more –embellishments pushed aside. He ignored the aggrieved, 'not again' look the soldier gave him.

"Even if I find him, he won't come," the blond warned him, and then seemed to think of something else he could add, and thought better of it.

"Tell him I have a surprise for him," the king tittered condescendingly, his brow hardening when he heard a soft, shocked intake of breath from his daughter and a quiet murmur rise from the balconies, "That usually gets his attention." Wakamatsu nodded disgruntledly and abruptly turned, signalling to some of his men to join in the hunt. Imayoshi was about to readdress the Kirisaki men, when he felt Satsuki's hand upon his arm; gripping far tighter than was polite.

"You're not…seriously going to do what I think you are?" she whispered, and Imayoshi was forced to look down into those bright pink eyes suddenly laced with a spark of fear. The hand on him tightened, and her brow creased; pleading against it. "You can't do that, father…look at him!" Her voice was but a soft whisper, and she turned to look at the man on the floor.

"Look at him. He's…" Even she, with all the intelligence of a noble schooling, didn't have the words to describe how this prince looked. And it was true; he was unkempt and dressed like a street rat; covered in blood and bruises and was kneeling in a most hangdog expression…but Satsuki hadn't seen those eyes.

"…I don't want…your pity…" he suddenly growled; drawing all eyes back to him. "If you've brought me here to kill me, then just do it." Imayoshi sort of wished he was still sitting so that he could have the joy of resting chin in a hand as he surveyed this young man. There was something almost admirable about stupidly _defiant _he seemed to think he was being.

"Kill you?" Imayoshi scoffed, allowing himself a small laugh as though the notion were absurd, "What use is there in killing you, hmm?

"I have something much worse in mind."

"_Father_!"

"Satsuki, please," Imayoshi tutted, adjusting his glasses and beckoning over several of the closest guards as Kagami's hands clenched into fists at his sides. But there was a room of guards, and he had just shown that in the state he was in, he was in no state to be fighting his way free of anyone. "You're causing a scene –ahh, Susa, excellent –" He was glad to see his faithful Third Captain among those that had approached to offer their assistance. " –These men are our guests, and we must repay King Hanamiya's..._generosity_. Ensure they are made welcome and treated accordingly. They must be tired." **  
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"We thank you, for your hospitality, your majesty," Furuhashi rumbled, sounding somewhat like clockwork.

"Of course," Imayoshi replied, though his tone wasn't entirely pleasant, "Shall I send out a search party to retrieve any survivors of your company?"

"No need," Furuhashi assured him blandly, "If they survived the flooding river, then they will regroup and make camp to await news of our mission's success."

"Out in this weather?" Imayoshi raised an eyebrow. What luck, to survive a near-drowning, only to linger out in the wind and rain.

"Trust me, your majesty, when I say that my men have dealt with far worse."

Imayoshi was glad to see the backs of the Kirisaki men –especially under guard. He hadn't exactly given the order to keep a sharp eye on them while they were in the castle, but it seemed that sort of thing went unsaid when it came to men serving Hanamiya Makoto. It was rude for them to not offer their names, or a message from their king, but the man –Kagami –he had served as message enough.

Hearing sighs of relief and hushed whispers strike up as the ominous aura of the Kirisaki men began to depart from the throne room, Imayoshi caught Susa's attention once more, ordering him to take Kagami far from the Kirisaki men. The ragged man was in desperate need of a bath and medical treatment, and he too, was technically a guest.

"What if he tries to run?" Susa inquired of him, eyeing Kagami's back as he was escorted from the room. There was still undeniable tenseness in his shoulders, and a tentativeness in the way he limped after the men warily leading him. Obviously Susa didn't put it past him to try and make a break for it, despite the air of bitter resignation hanging about him.

"...Then catch him, obviously," Imayoshi sighed, as though that were completely obvious, "Though I'd be questioning how he managed to escape you in the first place; did you _see_ the state he was in?"

Normality was slowly resuming; the guards that remained returning to ushering the townsfolk from the throne room. The nobles were at their infernal whispering again; questioning what their king was thinking in having dealings with King Hanamiya; wondering if they'd heard correctly –if that dirty man was indeed a prince, and if so; _what was he doing here_? But they too were finally dispersing –the excitement done for, for the meantime.

"Well this has been _most_ riveting, I must say," Imayoshi tittered, mostly to Midorima as he too, began slowly making his way towards one of the exits –that bath was just calling to him, and he had some definite plans to lay and a response to prepare for Hanamiya.

Now, out in the corridors, he was catching sight of shadows shifting through the hallways –servants all scurrying about doing their duties and trying to avoid getting underfoot. His attendant had easily dropped in behind him, but it seemed as though there was someone else still intent on pursuing him.

"Father!" Satsuki's voice called out crossly from somewhere behind him and he drew to a halt with a sigh –ignoring the snicker that Midorima provided from a few steps behind him.

"What is it, sweet daughter?" he inquired innocently, turning to see her striding down the corridor with a firm frown to her brow. Servants ducked aside, shyly dropping their gazes as she swept past.

" –Do not '_sweet daughter'_ me," she sniffed, "A _surprise_ for my cousin? Father, the whole castle knows what that means!"

"Your point being?

"Did you see that man? He's not like the others you've gifted to Aomine-kun," she murmured softly, shaking her head and clutching her hands together tightly, "…To make him do such things would seem…degrading."

"Did _you_ see that man?" Imayoshi retorted flatly; obviously startling her with his tone, "You know his story. He has been held by Kirisaki Daiichi for years –I'm sure he's already well acquainted with all that is degrading and humiliating. Hanamiya would have made sure of it –he hated his uncle, and his family, after all…" Though he hated to admit it, he found his own voice softening –but Satsuki obviously didn't hear it, as her lower lip trembled in a disappointed, most un-queenly fashion. It was the kind of rare expression she wore when she looked to him not as her king but as her father.

"I can't believe you'd be so cruel."

A swish of her long, pink hair, and she was sweeping off down the hallway –storming off with such dignity, too; her dress trailing after, and young maids scuttling to pick up the train to keep it off the stone floor. Imayoshi watched her leave with a most wearied sigh.

"It seems that Princess Momoi does not approve," Midorima remarked coolly from a few paces behind him.

"Oh, whatever gave you that impression?" Imayoshi remarked sarcastically, gazing around the hallway at the servants who were steadily darting about. No doubt that they all had their ears wide open –the servants always did but liked to pretend they didn't. If one believed the whispers, it was said that the servants of Touou knew all that went on within its walls. There was always someone listening. "...In any case," he added, almost innocently, as he began to continue off towards his chambers. "Satsuki shouldn't just go leaping to conclusions like that."

For a heavy moment there, Imayoshi failed to hear Midorima's familiar footsteps trailing after him, and when he looked back, he saw it was because his attendant was rooted to the spot; eyes narrowing suspiciously behind his glasses. He was an imposing figure; tall, stern-faced and proud, much like his father, and still so young to be wearing such a disdainful expression. Sometimes it was hard to remember that this man was the same age as his sweet daughter.

"Your majesty…" Midorima suddenly remarked, his suspicion evident in his voice, as though he was trying to piece together exactly what his king was implying. He'd been in the king's service for long enough to be most wary when Imayoshi acted his most innocent; especially when it came to his daughter and nephew. It would never get back to the king, of course, but sometimes the servants whispered that he, and Hanamiya were of the same cut and mould. "If I might ask…Aomine…isn't going to like this surprise, is he?" Imayoshi couldn't help but chuckle to himself –likely doing nothing but making his attendant ever more concerned.

"Oh," he snickered slyly, his lips curling up into a small, quiet grin, "…A lot of people are not going to like this." He could feel disapproval radiating from the young man behind him, and took the time to give him what he felt was a most reassuring smile. From the way Midorima adjusted his glasses and deepened his reproachful scowl, it had not had the desired effect.

"Well, if you must know," he continued with a small shrug, deliberately letting his voice lighten and carry slightly. There was no point in keeping secrets, in any case. What fun was there to be found in that?"Satsuki has made incorrect assumptions about my plans for Prince Kagami." He heard Midorima's footsteps slow; intrigued. Imayoshi's smirk widened –was that the quiet gasp of gossiping servant he could hear?

"It's not my intention to have him service our dear Aomine."

Somewhere outside, thunder rumbled ominously. Imayoshi chuckled to himself as he glanced over his shoulder and caught Midorima staring at him with an expression that seemed most quizzical. The king couldn't help it; he really couldn't –not when this turn of events promised to make things ever so interesting. Let the servants talk; let them whisper.

All the better.

"He's here to marry him."

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed the introduction to the kingdom of Touou! I'm looking forward to see where this fic goes, so leave a review if you're interested, and we'll get this thing moving; and that includes learning more about this Kagami, and meeting an elusive prince Aomine.<strong>

**Thank you for reading!**

**Much love,  
>xx K<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so excited to get this going, so here's the next chapter! A couple of familiar faces will start to pop up from now on, too! Enjoy.**

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><p>Kagami Taiga was no stranger to nightmares. In a kingdom where every shadow had a face, such things were unavoidable. They felt almost real, too –he always could feel the warm, stinking breath of each monster; the sting of a blade piercing his flesh; the crawling touch of every hand upon his skin. And he would pry himself from every restless sleep to wake in cold darkness and wonder if he was in fact, still dreaming.<p>

He always hoped he wasn't –the monsters of reality were tangible. They could be fought and overcome and resisted. But those that plagued his sleep, they kept on coming and coming, and tormenting him at every turn; in every form. Truly, up until just now, he'd thought he'd faced every kind of nightmare to haunt his dreaming mind.

But he was wrong, and perhaps this was the cruellest of them all –a dream he couldn't find it in his heart to wake from.

In this one, his room, if it could ever have been called his, was vivid and changed. This room was dry and warm, and he could even feel the soft touch of sunlight trickling in through an open window. Gone was the dripping of water down the stone walls; gone with the dank smell of mould and air gone foul. There was a kind of unfamiliar softness beneath his cheek; something that smelled faintly earthy and tickled his skin. He didn't want to wake from this; didn't want to open his eyes to feel the warmth grow stale; to feel the sunlight fade and find that the soft furs had turned back to dirty, creaking wood.

Distantly, his dozing mind could hear the friendly crackle of a fire burning low, and the hushed footsteps of servants pattering about. Someone was humming –a song he hadn't heard in a long time. It was faint; nothing more than a blurry memory, but he was sure he knew the tune. It sounded like a distant summer –somewhere far beyond the dark castle walls that he knew lay beyond this dreaming world.

But as much as he didn't want to, he knew he should get up. They'd be coming for him soon, and who knew what would happen if they found him still locked in sleep. It was that that forced his body to move, as it had for years now, trying to draw him from slumber. But somehow, his body felt so sluggish today; it felt sleepy and lazy, and everything seemed to ache with a kind of dull pain.

But that sort of thing wasn't foreign to him, and he knew that it wouldn't serve as any kind of excuse, so he ignored the pounding of his head and the groaning of his limbs as he struggled to drag himself awake.

He waited for it to all start fading. It always did. Whatever forest, or mountain, or marsh or dungeon his subconscious found itself in, this was when that, and all the sensations the nightmare conjured, would all start withering. This was when his eyes would flicker open and adjust to reality, and he would find that he was back in that dirty, dark room, to face the waking kind of nightmare.

Red eyes slowly flickered open, but instead of waking to darkness, he was greeted with intense, bright light that made his eyes water and his vision blur. He couldn't help but cringe; his wrists stinging as he brought a bandaged hand to his face to shield his eyes. Everything was blurring, like he'd expected; but it wasn't changing –wasn't fading at all. That was real, warm sunlight on his face, and there was a soft mattress underneath him.

…Not a dream?

The humming was getting clearer now, and as Kagami's vision began to clear, he became dimly aware that there was someone in this strange room with him. His eyelids fluttered in confusion, still not entirely certain that he could believe what he was seeing, but no matter how many times he blinked or rubbed his eyes, there was no denying that this certainly wasn't Kirisaki Daiichi.

It was the light that convinced him most. Somehow, it had always felt so dark in Kirisaki.

Slowly, he peered down at his bandaged hands and inspected them, turning them over and feeling the cloth rub against the raw skin of his wrists. His throat stung with the same rawness, and he could see cuts and bruises riddling his dirty arms. He stared at them for a moment, hazy memories suddenly pouring back to him; the memory of being taken in the dead of night and gagged even before he'd woken, the ache of being shoved upon horseback like some kind of baggage; the sound of soldiers snickering amongst themselves…and then water –so much water; filling his lungs and threatening to bog him down… And then the unfamiliar faces of a strange king and a beautiful princess…

So that hadn't just been a nightmare.

"Ahh, so you're finally awake."

Someone was speaking. It was a light-hearted voice –a man –and it forced Kagami's gaze to shift from his hands, up to settle on a dark-haired figure hovering across the other side of the room, apparently inspecting the contents of a large tub. As if feeling eyes upon him, he glanced up, hoisting an empty bucket aloft as he did so.

"You know, I was starting to wonder if they'd hit you too hard," the man remarked, almost conversationally as he traipsed past with his burden. There was a water pump on the other side of the room that he seemed to be making for. "…Gods, rooms like this are so inconvenient for us servants," he added, with a sigh of complaint, "Having to lug water across the room? Do you know how long it takes to fill a bath like that?" It was a good thing he didn't seem to be expecting an answer, because Kagami was too thrown by the man's nonchalance to offer one. Brow furrowing in confusion, he watched this man –a servant, if his complaints were to be believed –start working the pump until his bucket was filled to the brim with water.

He had black hair, dusted with the same ashes or dirt or something that seemed to be clinging to his grey tunic. Even partly still in a daze, Kagami could pick out that he didn't seem to be armed –not a Kirisaki man, for certain; the servants there all wore black and wore weapons like accessories. At first glance, he didn't seem to be a threat, but Kagami had a certain kind of instinct when it came to people…and though he couldn't explain it, something about this guy made him uneasy.

"Where am I?" Kagami inquired warily; wondering if the guy would answer. It couldn't hurt to know at least that much, especially with his head throbbing as it was...

"Infirmary, m'lord," the man replied simply, as he began hauling the bucket back across the room towards the tub. He turned briefly to glance at Kagami, propped up in bed and a little disoriented, and the redhead caught a flash of piercing grey eyes before the servant returned to his task, "That's generally where people get taken when they get knocked unconscious by half a dozen guards."

"Knocked unconscious…" Kagami muttered distantly, reached up to his pounding head and wincing when his fingertips brushed against the texture of dried blood. There was a thunderous splash as the bucket's contents were unceremoniously dumped into the tub, and the sound did nothing to soothe his headache. "Someone hit me?"

"Yup," the man replied, looking dissatisfied with his handiwork and tutting disapprovingly, "I mean, _yes_, m'lord. A few times, actually. I don't know why you thought it was a good idea to try and run…"

It hadn't been a good idea; hadn't been a smart idea at all, really. But Kagami remembered a kind of anger welling up in him as he was shepherded down a strange hallway by men he didn't recognise. When, by some miracle, he'd escaped the raging floodwaters, he'd thought that that was his chance to flee. He'd thought that the men that had dragged him out to god-knows-where were all dead, and he was finally free from them. But of course, the worst of them had survived, and though he'd tried to beat them back, before he knew it, he was being kicked to the dirt all over again, and collared like some kind of animal. For a moment, kneeling before a new king, though, he'd had hope. And then he'd realised that he had just been _handed over_ like property.

Of course he'd tried to run.

"Tch…" Kagami scoffed bitterly, gritting his teeth, "What was I supposed to do? I didn't know what they were going to do to me…" He threw back the blankets weighing him down and his face curled up in disdain at the sight of his muddy, torn clothes –although someone had at least had the courtesy to bind the cuts on his feet. His legs had definitely seen better days too. The pump started creaking again.

"Wait," the man snickered in disbelief, "You're telling me you don't know why you're here?"

"Like that bastard Hanamiya would tell me anything," Kagami growled, clenching his fists angrily and being satisfied with the strength he seemed to have regained somewhat. He wondered where this room was –was it high up? His limbs were cramped and aching but he knew they could take more of a battering if necessary. The servant looked small –he was sure he could easily overwhelm him, and the door didn't look to be locked. Would there be a guard?

To hell if there was. There was no way he was sitting around here long enough to find out what these fucking kings had planned for him, especially if Hanamiya was involved. He clenched his jaw angrily. He wasn't about to have this place be Kirisaki all over again.

"…And the guy with the crown said he was gonna do worse than kill me…"

The man had the gall to _laugh_.

Red eyes flashed angrily, and he glared up at the servant who was leaning on the water pump and wiping away an imaginary tear of mirth. Such a look didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.

"Well, I guess that's one way of looking at it, m'lord," he chuckled, trying to stifle his laughter against a hand as he began lugging the brimming bucket back towards the tub, "And, if you're thinking about going for the window, we're three floors up and it's a stone courtyard down there." Kagami averted his eyes with a mumbled curse; had his thoughts really been so transparent? "Also," the servant added, with a sidelong glance, "For the record, the 'guy with the crown' is King Imayoshi, of Touou."

Kagami blinked. _Touou? Where the fuck was Touou? _

Apparently he didn't hide his mystification all that well, because the guy was snickering at him again!

"You have no idea where you are, do you, m'lord?" he snorted, shaking his head incredulously and causing Kagami to feel a surge of annoyance rise with a new throb of pain in his head. "Wait, wait, let me get this straight…you have no idea where you are, or why you're here, and you still tried to make a break for it?"

"It's better than being locked up," Kagami muttered, and was suddenly struck by the fact that he had no idea who this man was, and that he seemed to be mocking him. "Anyway, who the hell are you? What do _you_ know?"

"Hmm?" the servant remarked innocently, though Kagami distrusted how his tone seemed so different from the sharpness of his eyes, "Me? I'm just a servant, m'lord. And we know everything." Kagami just glared at him darkly –what kind of a fucking answer was that? Almost as if sensing his annoyance, the man laughed airily, once more.

"Takao Kazunari," he introduced, finally, "At your service." There was a heavy thunk as he rested his full bucket on the rim of the tub.

"_What_ are you doing?" Kagami grumbled, finally getting irritated by the other man's constant pacing across the room. He swung his legs down off the bed and tested them tentatively on the stone floor. His feet stung, and his calves didn't seem to want to take his weight, but he'd make them. Meanwhile, Takao had frozen, mid-way through emptying his bucket. He seemed to not understand the question; eyes moving from the bucket, to tub, and then back to Kagami in disbelief.

"I'm uhh…preparing a _bath_…m'lord," he replied with a slight chuckle, as though it should be obvious, an eyebrow raised in such a way that Kagami again felt as though he was being made fun of. This Takao was taking him lightly; probably thinking that because he looked injured, he was beyond moving.

"Why are you calling me that?" he growled flatly, dusting some dried mud off his pants and seeing yet another rip that had been caked shut. The empty bucket clattered to the floor.

"Calling you what, m'lord?" His tone was innocent and undeniably mocking.

"_That_. I'm no lord."

"What would you prefer me call you?" Takao seemed to be enjoying this, "Your Highness? Your Grace? _Sir_? Prince Kagami? You are a prince, after all."

"I'm not a prince," Kagami scoffed automatically, his jaw clenching and a lump threatening to rise in his throat.

"Well, you're probably the first prince to ever say that, m'lord."

"Don't call me that."

"…You're also probably the first prince to ever say that, too," Takao remarked playfully, a teasing note slipping into his voice and causing a vein to twitch in Kagami's forehead. What was this guy's problem? There was definitely something about him that made him a little uneasy.

His legs burned as he shifted his weight onto them and managed to stand, even if he swayed a little. He hadn't felt this battered in a long time, but he was sure running wouldn't be an issue. The only real issue seemed to be that Takao, who seemed to be inexplicably hovering between him and the door. He didn't seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary –just mopping up some of the water he'd spilled in his trips between the water pump and the tub. He was humming again –that song that Kagami swore he knew.

He appeared to be paying him no mind; the mop moving to and fro to the tune of the song. Kagami began limping forwards, each step growing steadier, as he was accustomed to. He could go for the door, but he had no doubt that if he didn't make pains to keep this guy quiet, he'd be crowing his head off at the first sign that he was trying to make an escape. But he was in luck it seemed; the servant was making the terrible mistake of turning his back.

If he could just….

"_Fuck_!" Kagami swore, champing his teeth down hard, his eyes watering in pain as the blunt end of the mop abruptly connected with his gut; driving in much harder than he'd expected and winding him. He doubled over with a gasp, his abdomen obviously more tender and bruised than he'd anticipated. "What the fuck –"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't see you there," Takao inquired lightly, drawing the mop back and glancing over his shoulder. "How clumsy of me. But you really shouldn't be out of bed." His expression was almost apologetic, and Kagami _might_ have bought it, had the bottom half of the mop not suddenly connected with a particularly tender patch of shin.

"_That was on purpose_!" He growled aggressively, lunging forwards and aiming to snatch the servant up by the collar of his tunic. But the man was faster than he'd expected, and side stepped him so expertly that it seemed almost accidental that he'd avoided capture.

"Of course not," Takao assured him, apparently aghast by the accusation, "I'm but a humble servant, after all –I just do what I'm told." And yet, he was still shifting in a manner that Kagami was finding most suspicious. There was something in his eyes, too –a kind of sharpness that he'd seen in the faces of some of the servants at Kirisaki, and distrusted.

"And what if I told you to let me leave?" Kagami inquired darkly; eyeing up the mop that the servant was holding lightly in one hand. He was slippery, but he figured it wouldn't be difficult to physically overpower him.

For a moment, Takao seemed to seriously consider his question; his face curled up into a most thoughtful expression. And then, much faster, and with more force than Kagami could ever have expected of this man, the mop connected with the bruised side of his knee. It wasn't the worst blunt pain he'd ever dealt with, but all the same, his knee buckled against his will and he stumbled.

"I'm afraid I couldn't do such a thing…" came the light hearted, almost genuinely apologetic reply, as Kagami staggered, off balance.

" –I-is this how you treat a-all princes?" Kagami groaned through gritted teeth, trying to lunge forwards again but his knee deciding against co-operating and buckling again as a prickling sensation coursed up his leg. And then suddenly, he was off balance again; force against his chest sending him reeling backwards. His weakened knee refused to take his weight as he tried to steady himself, and he suddenly felt himself falling –realising too late that the backs of his thighs had connected with the edge of the tub.

"Well, you did say you weren't a prince, didn't you?"

Eyes clamped shut in trepidation, Kagami tensed, waiting for that breath-stealing impact.

The splash he made as he disappeared under the water was astounding. Within an instant, it grew murky; dried mud and blood being torn off Kagami's body and clothes as the water rose up and spilled over the lip of the tub. And after a long moment of being submerged, he broke the surface with a startled gasp.

In all his years as a servant, Takao Kazunari could honestly say that he had never seen a grown man looking so bewildered. Rumours circulating through the servant grapevine had piqued his interest about what kind of man Touou's newest guest was, so he'd been prepared for retaliation to his somewhat wicked methods, or worse…but it didn't seem like any kind of expected violence was forthcoming.

This Kagami man, he was just sitting there; his eyes wide and confused and staring down into the dirtying water almost in disbelief. Takao cocked his head inquisitively, observing the way he cupped his hands and splashed some up into his face. Apparently that had confirmed something, because he looked up and caught Takao's gaze, almost as though there was something about the concept of a bath he didn't quite understand.

"…It's warm?" he queried hoarsely, soft with wonder. Takao was helpless to stop one of his eyebrows from quirking up in amusement.

"Of course it's warm," he confirmed; why the hell wouldn't it be? "Why would I prepare you a cold bath?" For a moment, he could've sworn there was something hangdog in Kagami's expression, but it was gone in an instant; hidden behind a furrowed brow and stern red eyes. He looked torn between lingering in the tub and leaping out and throttling the servant that had put him there, which Takao was man enough to admit was justified. Sure, he could've just asked him to get in the bath, but who said he would've? Especially since he'd been rather obviously sizing up his odds of escaping.

"Oh, just relax, will you?" Takao sighed with a roll of his eyes, to try and shepherd him towards the option that wouldn't result in his bodily harm, "Get that filth off you, maybe? I went to the trouble of preparing the bath, you might as well make the most of it." His exasperation quickly turned to amusement as Kagami ran a hand through his drenched hair and grimaced as his hand came away running with mud. "…I'd help…but I feel like you might try and drown me."

It kind of looked like Kagami didn't see that as a half bad idea. But it seemed as though this strange novelty of a warm bath had won out, because his shoulders sagged as he plunged his head down under the water again. Takao leaned heavily on his mop, watching as Kagami's clothes billowed out below the surface, being rinsed of their grime. And as he watched him scrubbing at his hair, the servant couldn't help but be a little bit startled as the dirt washed away to reveal a mane of shocking red hair. Who would've guessed? How many layers of mud had that guy been carrying?

Again, Kagami broke the surface, breathing the air in deeply and tossing his wet locks. He was a scary man, Takao had to admit; at least while he was awake. Asleep, he looked smaller, more vulnerable, though he'd realised quite a while ago that that was true for most soldiers, too. In this bath though, he looked a little more docile, even if not quite at ease. He didn't blame him though; getting half-drowned, dragged to a new kingdom and then knocked out rather forcefully wasn't a recipe for a happy prince. He was in need of a haircut, maybe a shave, and probably some soap, but he was even already looking considerably less like a vagabond, though the guy kept peering at his skin as though it was the first time he'd really seen it in a long time.

It really made you wonder.

He'd been quick to recover, too. Takao had gotten a glance at those mottling bruises when he'd been cleaning and tending to the worst of the injuries during Kagami's bout of unconsciousness, and he was pretty sure that they would have had a lot of men groaning and aching. But this guy...he'd gotten to his feet almost like it was nothing; might have even been able to _catch_ him, had he been any less wounded.

"I'll get some new clothes sent in for you," he commented politely, "Jeez, I know beggars dressed better than you." Kagami glanced his way and seemed angered by the insult, but at least didn't seem like he was about to come jumping out of the bath. Those cuts looked like they stung, and at least he acknowledged that they all needed a decent clean.

Ahh, he did feel a little bad for probably aggravating those injuries…but maybe now the guy would at least think twice about trying to get the jump on him the next time he tried to escape.

And Takao had the feeling there was definitely going to be a next time.

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><p>Imayoshi wasn't exactly sure whether he should be impressed or concerned how quickly rumour spread through the castle. On one hand, it did prove that the servants could be incurable gossips –which really did beg the question of how much they knew but never let on –but on the other hand…he had never considered just how effective they were at transmitting information, though he'd discovered quite quickly that wherever there was hearsay, there were bound to be a dozen versions of it.<p>

Right now, however, he was starting to wish that the wildfire whispers had spread just a little slower. Two days –_less than two days_ –and already the murmurings of the servants had found their way to the ears of the noble houses. How on earth that had happened was rather beyond his comprehension –most nobles would be appalled by their underlings running their mouths and chattering idly –but they too undoubtedly craved scandal.

And here he'd been looking forward to a good few days of sitting back and watching the rumour mill churn; hoping to see some ripples of misinformation stir them all up…

Well, he'd definitely succeeded in stirring them up, at least, to the point where they really seemed quite set on interrupting an otherwise relatively pleasant morning. He had been rather popular with audiences today, in fact, popular meaning that he had been visited by the heads of _several_ noble families, all with _very _strong opinions on the matter…

"Midorima, what was it that Lord Kise was saying just then?" Imayoshi mused while pouring over the wording of a letter he was required to send. "I've grown far too used to dismissing him that I can hardly start listening to him now." It had been rather rude of him to send the Kirisaki soldiers off home without an accompanying letter, but Hanamiya had seen fit to do much the same thing –not to mention, Imayoshi had wanted those men gone from his land.

Nonetheless, courtesy dictated that he should probably at least _send_ a message.

"… '_A most outrageous farce to have a noble prince marry a beastly beggar –and another man, at that_'," Midorima quoted back at him dryly, coolly eyeing the back of the elegantly dressed nobleman who was making quite a show of storming out, "Among other things."

" –A _beggar_," Imayoshi tutted, feigning incredulousness as he debated over whether it was too early to start ordering wine, "A prince is a prince whether he currently has a kingdom or not…" He scoffed in irritation; no doubt the noble Lord Kise would be back with reinforcements at some stage, and though it was amusing seeing all them all flustered and squawking about his nephews impending engagement, Lord Kise had always been…persistent. "I don't know _what_ it is about that man that always leaves me with a headache."

"I know the feeling, your majesty."

As though understanding that politely rebutting the complaints of royals was hungry business, servants began filing into the room and setting the table for lunch. Imayoshi sighed, pushing aside his letter and gesturing for wine to fill the goblet in front of him. From somewhere behind his chair, he could hear the soft whispers of Midorima exchanging words with one of the servants in passing. He thought he heard a chuckle, and within moments, he quickly found out why.

" –_How could you not tell me_?"

"Good morning to you, my dear daughter," Imayoshi greeted innocently, looking up across the royal dining room to see Satsuki standing there in a deep green gown; hands on hips and cheeks puffed out in the way she had when she was a child. "…You're meant to give me _warning_ about these things, Midorima…" he added in a low mutter to his attendant.

"She's rather swift when angry at you, your majesty."

"Indeed," Imayoshi sighed in resignation, before letting his voice rise nonchalantly as his daughter glided across the room looking thoroughly displeased, "Come to join your father for lunch, have we?"

"Are the rumours true?" Satsuki demanded to know, drawing to a halt beside Imayoshi's chair and stubbornly remaining standing though the servants were kind enough to set a place for her.

"Satsuki can we not do this now?" he sighed, taking a sip of his wine, "I have _just_ gotten rid of Lord Kise, and you know what he's like –"

"So it's true then?" she huffed, "Prince Kagami is here for _marriage_? And I had to hear about it from Lady Miyaji? You know she's been trying to make a fool of me ever since I rejected her offer to marry her son…"

"Well, maybe you should have married her son," Imayoshi pointed out, "He's handsome, at least."

"…_Sometimes he throws things at servants_," she sniffed, folding her arms.

"…Not just servants," Midorima muttered from behind the king's chair.

"We all have our flaws," the king shrugged pointedly, "Sit down and let's have a nice meal, shall we?" He gestured for his daughter to take a seat, and it was much to his relief that she deigned to do so –obviously as intrigued as she was annoyed that she'd had to suffer the indignity of finding out such significant news second-hand.

"So?" Satsuki inquired, her tone of forced politeness. "…Are you going to explain yourself?"

"…I thought we were going to have lunch."

" –We are," she replied quickly, and with a far-too-kind smile for how cross she'd been only a moment ago, "And we're going to have a civilised conversation about why you neglected to tell me my cousin is suddenly engaged."

"Oh, are we now?" Imayoshi remarked with a light roll of his eyes, but she was using the kind of commanding, no-nonsense voice that always reminded him of her mother –one that even he had often struggled to argue against. She simply folded her hands in her lap and batted those bright pink eyes at him expectantly. "Well, as I'm sure you're well aware, you still don't have a husband –"

"_Father_, like I've said –"

" –_It just so happens_," he continued, talking over her and holding up a finger to mute her retort before this spiralled in his least favourite kind of argument, "That a lot of eligible bachelors in a lot of powerful kingdoms are also well aware of this." She sighed in exasperation and he couldn't help but let his lips curl up into a winning smirk, "…Including _King_ Hanamiya Makoto."

Oh, the look of outright astonishment on her face was priceless. Sometimes there really was no greater joy than shocking your children.

"You seem surprised that you'd catch his interest," Imayoshi tittered, relishing his next mouthful of wine, "He's still a man, after all, and one looking for a wife of equal birth to bear him an heir –not to mention you're the only princess in all the kingdoms that comes with a throne."

"How come I didn't know about this?" she whispered; her eyes widening in something that seemed rather similar to mortification. "I-I thought you were desperate to marry me off…"

"Oh, let's not pretend you were _ever_ going to marry _him_," Imayoshi scoffed, "If you wouldn't marry a man for occasionally tormenting small animals, then I can't imagine you marrying one who destroys kingdoms for pleasure." At least she had no argument against that. "And though he phrased it so nicely –using words like 'alliance' and 'uniting our people', I took the liberty of declining on your behalf." It was almost insulting that he felt like he'd never seen her look at him with such love. "Like I'd let my _lovely_ daughter marry a spider like him." For a moment it was just about heart-warming, until Satsuki's brow creased and her expression grew suspicious.

"…From what I hear…King Hanamiya isn't known to be a reasonable man," she murmured, "Would he have taken your refusal badly...?"

"Sweetheart, he's a king," he reminded her condescendingly, "He's used to getting what he wants, and what he wants is Touou. And if he doesn't marry you, he doesn't get it. Of course he took it badly. And that's why we have Kagami." Oops, did he just laugh a little?

"So what, you offered him Aomine-kun instead?"

"You make it sound like I'm selling my own flesh and blood," he sniffed, feigning hurt by the accusatory tone of her voice, " –It was a reasonable alternative; the marriage of my royal nephew to a suitable match of Hanamiya's choosing. I couldn't well refuse such a generous offer of an alliance, could I? That would have been outright rude."

"So instead you were _passively rude_?" Satsuki groaned. Well, that was certainly one way of looking at it. Hanamiya had played nice under the pretence of forming some peace agreement by the uniting of their kingdoms by marriage, but Imayoshi was himself cunning enough to know what he was really after. And there was no way on earth that Imayoshi was letting Hanamiya have any sort of claim to the throne of Touou.

"I played along," Imayoshi corrected, as the servants sidled up to begin loading the table with plates of food for lunch. He didn't miss the way his daughter's eyes softened sadly at the all-too familiar sight of the empty third place set across from her. "If it was really an alliance he was after, marriage to any of the royals should have been acceptable…" He shrugged and nonchalantly nibbled on a piece of bread. "And besides…I didn't think he would make a move so…_amusing_…"

"Oh father, maybe _you_ should have married him instead," Satsuki sniffed, and Imayoshi ignored the snort of agreement from behind his chair.

"Come now," he chuckled, "You can't say it's not a little clever? I asked him to send me a match of suitable birth for my nephew. I made the mistake of not specifying a _bride_, and Hanamiya exploited that. He sent me a _prince_, Satsuki –there really is no one more suited to marrying royalty than royalty…"

" –There's no need to sound so impressed," she scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "But really, Prince Kagami has been in Kirisaki since the fall of Seirin –most people would have forgotten he was ever a royal to begin with –why on earth would Hanamiya give him up?"

"Your cousin has a reputation," Imayoshi reminded her dryly, "…And Kagami _is _royal. As well as Kiyoshi's only heir."

He watched his daughter for a moment; watched the cogs turning in her mind –watched as understanding poured in. Of course she understood it as he did; she was equal parts him and her mother, and the pair of them had been shrewd enough between them for at least some of that to have been passed to their daughter.

Hanamiya Makoto could be a petty man; that was known through the kingdoms, and he took no offense lightly. He'd done as Imayoshi had asked –played along, as Imayoshi had played along with him. To marry a royal of Touou; one of the richest and most powerful of all the kingdoms, he'd sent a royal; in most cases a perfect match in terms of birth –but he'd sent a pauper prince; the only heir to a fugitive king, and an all but destroyed kingdom.

"…But if Prince Kagami marries Aomine-kun…" Satsuki murmured quietly, "He'll never father legitimate children to inherit his throne…"

"And Seirin's royal line ends with him, unless Kiyoshi and his royal wife conceive," Imayoshi finished, smiling almost fondly; like a man most impressed by his opponent's latest move at chess, "Which should prove very difficult when Hanamiya's making sure to keep them separated…and god knows the _Honourable King Kiyoshi_ would never remarry if there was even the _chance_ his beloved wife still lived…" He trailed off; shaking his head pityingly. "Hanamiya really does take pains to ensure Kiyoshi's torment, doesn't he? His commitment _is_ somewhat admirable…"

"You're going to call it off, aren't you? Send him home?" she suddenly queried firmly, and Imayoshi actually choked on his wine a little at the absurdity of the suggestion. Satsuki glared at him. "So what? You're making an enemy of Seirin? Arranging a marriage that the entire castle feels is a joke?"

An enemy of Seirin? Imayoshi couldn't help but roll his eyes. It had been what, over ten years since they'd raised an army –over ten years since they could even be called a kingdom, what with their ruler on the run and their people scattered; Hanamiya had done his work well.

"He's of royal blood –which is more than the nobles can claim," he sniffed, "I can't well send him _home_ –he doesn't _have_ one; and everyone knows that even here is preferable to Kirisaki Daiichi." That certainly made his daughter fall into a sombre silence. He sighed contentedly, smiling at her reassuringly, "Look at it this way; the more nobles bitching about this engagement, the fewer there will be bitching about the lack of yours –another of which, I might add, you have just escaped thanks to me."

"Don't pretend that any of this was for me," she huffed crossly, her eyes narrowing in a way that Imayoshi felt could sometimes see through him. It was a look she'd inherited from him, regrettably. "You just don't want to lose your crown or have to admit that he came up with a cleverer insult than you did."

Well, he couldn't argue with her there. No king –no man –enjoyed losing, and he couldn't help but feel that if he sent Kagami packing back to Kirisaki (though a _blatant_ insult), it _would_ be like losing. Though offending Hanamiya like that was a most appealing concept, that man had tried to throw him. Repeating his rejection would be like being forced to backtrack, when what Imayoshi wanted to prove was that there was nothing –no situation –too clever for him to overcome.

"You're unbelievable," Satsuki sniffed, after a rather tense moment of silence had passed, during which Imayoshi could hear servants rustling behind his chair in conversation with Midorima. What were they whispering about now? "Did you at least consult Aomine-kun?"

"Why would I do that?" Imayoshi scoffed condescendingly, "Things have gone rather poorly in the past."

"They haven't been _that bad_," she countered with a soft roll of her eyes.

"Satsuki, despite several engagements, he's never been married," he deadpanned, "Generally, that's the sign that of things going badly."

"Well _maybe_ if you didn't try marrying him to everyone who came offering," she sniffed, and Imayoshi couldn't help but wave over for more wine –he had the feeling he knew where this was headed now.

"I don't," he insisted, "I've been consistently deterring some of the nobles for years –they keep coming back though, and I can't figure out why. Aomine's never really seemed like the marrying type…"

"So you're making him get married."

Imayoshi enjoyed the fact that even after all this time, he still managed to bewilder his daughter.

"Satsuki, your cousin sees marriage differently from you," he sighed, but decided against elaborating just how he privately thought his nephew saw the concept of being married.

"I can't believe that," she insisted stubbornly, "Not with everything I've heard about his mother –" Imayoshi was just about to cut her off and remind her that Aomine was_ not_ his mother, but it seemed that something she'd spotted across the dining hall had done the job for him. He glanced up from his meal and couldn't supress the audible sigh that escaped his lips. Why couldn't Midorima do his job and give him a little warning about unexpected turns of events?

It was rare that Prince Aomine Daiki ever graced his family with his presence but when he did, he certainly knew how to draw attention to himself. Not that he ever seemed to care. Even as he sauntered across the room, Imayoshi could see the eyes of the servants being tugged towards his nephew, and the looks and the soft whispers started up. There was something about his presence that could fill a room; something confident, something _arrogant, _and even though he was unarmed and barely in appropriate attire, everything about the way he carried himself screamed that he was a force to be reckoned with.

The king returned to his meal, not at all surprised by Aomine's apparel, and long since weary of seeing it. Was it too much to ask for him to dress respectfully for a meal?

Of course it was. When was the last time he'd seen his nephew dressed like a prince? He had the looks for it, easily –a most striking man, even by noble standards. And where Satsuki was fair, he was dark; his eyes not the typical royal pink, but rather, a rich, deep blue. And his were the kind of eyes that felt like they could burn but with a look; a haughty, condescending gaze that at times seemed both bored and intimidating.

But more often than not, it wasn't just his looks attracting attention.

"Why good morning, my dear nephew," Imayoshi greeted with a cordiality that may not have been entirely sincere, "So kind of you to join us." Unsurprisingly, he went ignored, a dark-skinned hand reaching out and snatching one of the plates from the table, ignoring the place so obviously set for him. Satsuki's brow creased disapprovingly; though Imayoshi couldn't tell whether it was at the appalling lack of table manners, or the way Aomine had once again neglected to at least have the decency to re-button his shirt.

"Oh, leaving again so soon?" Imayoshi sighed heavily, watching his nephew making to stroll off again, plate in hand, mouth half full and tanned chest exposed to reveal a torso riddled with purple love-marks and scratches that he had long since given up pretending were feline in origin. "…But Wakamatsu's just caught up to you…"

There was a low curse from the hallway through which Aomine had just entered, and those present were greeted by the sight of the blond soldier staggering against the doorway, panting as though he'd just been running. He looked furious, and was clutching a likely once-again misshapen nose, blood dripping down his chin. Aomine paused mid-stride to glance disinterestedly over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing when he recognised the soldier.

"Hah? You're still there? Did you get slower?" he remarked condescendingly, picking at his ear before turning to survey his uncle. "…Stop sending your dogs after me."

"…I have to exercise them somehow," Imayoshi replied playfully, motioning for Wakamatsu to move no closer lest today be the day he finally snapped. He caught Satsuki glaring at him rather pointedly, so was forced to add, falsely pleasant, "Ah, Aomine, there's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you about –I suppose you've heard the rumours circulating around the castle?"

"Hmm?" Aomine mused disinteresting, adding something else to his plate and casually wiping some of the grease off on the loose, white shirt he was wearing, "…Why would I care about rumours?"

"Well, because they pertain to a certain royal engagement," Imayoshi explained, and Aomine at least took the time to look in the slightest bit surprised.

"Engagement?" he repeated, before he scoffed with a scornful roll of his eyes, "So Satsuki finally quit her complaining and picked some poor bastard?"

"Aomine-kun!"

"It's not _her_ engagement, Aomine," Imayoshi elaborated politely, with an ever-so-polite sip of his wine, "It's _yours_."

If he'd been hoping for some kind of outburst, he was disappointed.

"Again?" Aomine drawled, as though the entire concept was far too troublesome.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your enthusiasm," he commented as Satsuki interrupted him, quick to add, "Aomine-kun how can you still be so blasé about this? This is your potential marriage! I mean, I'll try and talk father out of it, don't worry but–"

"Why would I worry?" he snorted flatly, "It's not like this changes anything…" Imayoshi would have liked to pay a little more attention to the argument that seemed about to erupt; well, not so much argument as it was Satsuki trying to make a point and Aomine ignoring her in favour of stockpiling his plate –but Midorima had tapped him on the shoulder.

"Your majesty, it appears there has been an _incident_," he remarked stonily, and the king had the feeling that his attendant was giving Aomine's state of dress a look of disdain. Fair enough, really. Did he have to go flaunting such vulgar marks? And not even taking the time to readjust his hair or properly buckle his pants. It was almost amazing that he'd shown up in shoes.

" –It appears that our guest has…been making a nuisance of himself."

"Oh, good…and it's only just lunchtime."

" –I just can't believe you're okay with this…"

"Tch, would you quit your nagging, Satsuki?" Aomine snorted, mouth half full of food and seeming like he was regretting coming to the dining room in the first place, "It's not like this one's going to be any different from the others."

There was a sudden yowl of pain from the edge of the room, and the royals had their eyes pulled to the source of the noise –a bloodied Wakamatsu who had apparently just had his nose forced back into place by one of the servants.

"Wakamatsu, you should really just stop provoking him," Imayoshi advised, pretending that he didn't hear a number of low, grumbled expletives directed at the prince, who didn't seem to care.

"Tch," the blond scoffed, gratefully accepting a cloth to clean his face, "_Ow. _And uh, your majesty; I think we're about to have company." He jerked his head back down the corridor he'd emerged from, and it became apparent that there was some kind of commotion going on down the hall. Imayoshi exchanged a look with Midorima, who just adjusted his glasses knowingly and didn't comment.

"Get your hands off me! Fucking _untie me_!" an aggressive voice was crowing; its owner obviously struggling, judging by the sheer noise and frequency of grunting.

"…You'll just try and hit us again. So I can't do that," came the patient but somewhat long-suffering response.

" –Is that Susa-san?" Satsuki inquired curiously, "And…what's going on, father?"

"Hmm, I would very much like to know that, myself," he remarked dryly. "Would you care to explain, Susa?" he added lightly, as Wakamatsu stepped aside to allow for the Touou army's Third Captain to enter the room, somehow retaining an air of dignity despite the fact that he seemed to be extraordinarily dirty. "I mean, it's nice to see you, and all, but I'm having a frankly rather rare family moment here...what was so important?"

"...Our..._guest_ broke out of his room," Susa explained flatly as several of his equally dirty men appeared in the doorway, practically wrestling with said _guest_. If he hadn't had that layer of mud, Imayoshi might not have even recognised Kagami Taiga; he seemed to be a whole lot cleaner than when he'd first appeared before him, and he was dressed in new, but admittedly now-ruined clothes.

"He broke out of his room," Imayoshi repeated, raising an eyebrow curiously at the man being unceremoniously shoved into the room and straining against the rope tying his wrists at his back.

"Yes, your majesty. Broke the door down," Susa replied, as though this was a routine report, "...We only just apprehended him."

That would explain why his men were looking so exhausted and a little battered.

" –And you had to tread mud into my dining room?" he sighed in disappointment, "And I suppose you're treating him like a common prisoner because…"

"…Because they know that if I had my hands I'd be beating them," Kagami piped up, barging the nearest guard in the chin with his shoulder and making to do the same to another before Susa had drawn his sword and pressed it to his throat. He flinched away from the cold steel, but the man who had managed to capture him didn't release the pressure.

He'd thought when he'd gotten the door down that things would go relatively smoothly. Takao had said they were on the third floor, so he'd figured that finding three flights of stairs, or even two...even one, wouldn't prove too difficult. But it had turned out that it was rather problematic having zero idea of where he was, or of where the castle corridors led.

And _gods_ those guards were a lot faster than he was expecting. A couple of them had tried tackles once or twice, and being flung to a stone floor was something that Kagami had never really enjoyed or gotten used to. There had been a lot of rolling around but he'd managed to shake them a few times before finally being cornered by their captain and tied up _again_.

And now here he was again, brought before that _King_ and that princess, and in a room full of the most delicious smelling food; but this time there was someone new in the room; someone that seemed to have at least some of the guards wary; someone whose very presence made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning.

"Those are big words for someone who's looking so pathetic," a deep voice remarked, oozing condescension. There was something in that disdainful, almost arrogant tone of voice that made Kagami's hands clench into fists against his restraints; the low, dangerous rumble of some kind of predator. Red eyes quickly honed in on the owner of the voice; the one that the soldiers holding him captive seemed to be eyeing almost...disapprovingly?

"...Untie me, and we'll see who's pathetic," Kagami challenged aggressively, ignoring the way his bruises were flaring up all over again.

It was almost eerie, the deafening silence that followed. Almost thoughtfully, the man lowered the plate of food he was holding, letting it softly clatter to the table as he turned to survey the man who had seen fit to interrupt his lunch.

To Kagami, he didn't look like a noble. He wasn't dressed like one; he was dressed much like the redhead, in fact...tight, simple pants, and a plain white blouse, though this man's was completely unbuttoned to reveal a rich, tanned chest. His torso, also like Kagami's, was riddled with bruises and scrapes, but where the redhead's were large, blotchy, discolourations from being battered about, those..._those _were the small, deep purple of a much better kind of ferocity. And then slowly, Kagami's gaze drifted higher; drinking in the strength in that body that might have gone unnoticed by those not used to evaluate threats.

His eyes finally settled on his face; a face that might have even been handsome if wiped of the arrogant sneer that curled up from his lips...and then there were those eyes; blue and superior, and, Kagami was sure, hiding a spark of something dangerous.

And then, even as he met this man's cool gaze, he felt a surge of anger and something akin to resentment burn through his body, and when he understood what exactly it was, his eyes widened in astonishment.

"You!" The redhead ground out accusingly, that single, spat word causing even the king to raise an eyebrow.

"…Have we met?" the man inquired flatly, his sneer indicating that he didn't particularly care if they had. He turned to face the king, ignoring the way Kagami's eyes narrowed darkly. "Imayoshi. Who the hell is this guy?"

"_He_ is the surprise I asked Wakamatsu to mention to you," King Imayoshi replied innocently, ignoring the disapproving look from the princess sitting at his side.

At that, his expression changed slightly, and it set Kagami's guard high. Where before, it had been disinterested and dry, and his eyes had been dull and bored, there was now a hint of interest; a dangerous kind of expression indeed, a kind that the redhead hated. He couldn't well tell the man to get away from him now; not when he had challenged him only moments ago, but those blue eyes were unashamedly trekking across his form in a way that made him shudder with an ill-concealed grimace. When a tanned finger reached out to tilt his chin, he defiantly turned his head away, but still forced himself to look up from under his long bangs and meet that blue, appraising gaze.

"Where did you find this one?" he inquired, with all the casual airs of a man judging some kind of curious beast. His thumb brushed against the redhead's lower lip almost experimentally, ignoring his deepening scowl and the way he gritted his teeth. "He seems…"

In a flash, Kagami's teeth met with a sharp snap as he bit down on air, though he huffed in annoyance when he realised that this man's reflexes has been sharp enough to save him losing a digit. Blue eyes narrowed, but not without a small spark of approval.

"…Mangy."

"Now, now," Imayoshi tutted disapprovingly, as Kagami felt the blade at his throat tense in payment for his attempted mauling, "This isn't a little plaything for you, sweet nephew. His name is Kagami Taiga, and he is the man you are going to marry."

Kagami's blood had run cold even before the weight of those heavy words had fully registered with him. He felt his eyes widen in horror; flicking from person to person in the room as if to ask if that was some kind of terrible joke. He'd long since let despair creep up on him, but in that moment, there was no denying that he felt a flash of it all over again.

"M-Marry?" he choked out in disbelief, aggressively tugging on his restraints despite the sting of a blade pressing into the skin of his throat, "Him? NO! What are you talking about?"

"You think Hanamiya sent you here on a whim?" was the king _chuckling_? He looked down over his glasses almost reproachfully, "I did say I wasn't going to kill you."

Whatever else Kagami had been about to blurt out was cut off as he felt a cloth gag being forcefully shoved into his mouth. He tried to bite; tried to spit it out; tried to form the words that Hanamiya couldn't do this to him; that there was no way he was marrying _anyone _but the captain holding him was as big as him, strong, and obviously better-kept than Kagami, so it was a futile effort. For what it was worth, he noted that the man at least looked apologetic for predicting his outcry.

"You're _joking_," Aomine deadpanned, sounding as though his uncle had said something rather offensive, glancing across at the muddy redhead currently being gagged to preserve some of the peace in the castle, "You're marrying me off to this man?"

"…Though I'll admit I'm amused, I am most certainly not joking," Imayoshi replied, dead serious though his tone remained what he thought was rather pleasant. "And I wasn't aware you had a _preference_."

"Tch…" Aomine snorted, looking down his nose at the redhead now clamping his teeth down on a cloth gag and glaring at him as though there was nothing more he desired than to punch him in the face. Kagami _did _want to punch him in the face, if only to vent some of the ugly, heavy feeling boiling in his gut. _This _was Hanamiya's new plan? So he _had_ just been exchanged as property. If he'd thought the answer would be any different from how it had been for half his life, he might've asked if it mattered what _he _wanted.

His apparent _betrothed _was beginning to circle him in a way he didn't like -it felt like he was being evaluated; hunted, like the other man was sizing him up for a meal. This time, he didn't look at him, because he could feel the heat of a smirk of a man who was at the very least content with what he saw. This time he fixed his glare upon that black-haired king, Imayoshi. Was he just like Hanamiya?

So fixated on leering up at the king sitting so smarmily at his swanky table, Kagami barely heard the almost thoughtful hum of the man standing beside to him, so when a tanned hand snaked out and crudely cupped his backside, he let out a muffled yelp as though he'd been bitten.

Imayoshi shook his head in exasperation as the captive prince tried to flinch away from the contact; something most intriguing crossing his gaze –something that either Aomine didn't see or chose to ignore in favour of giving his ass a quick squeeze. The redhead merely gritted his teeth on his gag, but the king noticed the way his jaw clenched and the way his eyes lit up in…_anger_?

"Hmm," Aomine snickered, taking a step back and looking almost pleased with the heavy look in those red eyes glinting at him, "…He'll do." There was another choked noise of protest from Kagami, but apparently Aomine was done with his evaluation, and was returning to the table, paying no mind to the man who had tried to maul him only moments ago.

Imayoshi looked across at his daughter with a smile as if to say '_see, it all turned out well_', but she wasn't looking at him –she was staring across at the man most unfortunately bound and gagged and wearing eyes shouting out to be couldn't seem to look away.

"What should I ask them to do, your majesty?" Midorima inquired quietly.

"Hmm?" Imayoshi raised an eyebrow, "Well, clearly make sure he doesn't escape again."

"…You want to keep him _prisoner_?"

" –Did I say that? No, of course not; we're not tyrants…just…send him to one of the guest rooms, and make sure to push something heavy in front of the door," he advised, as though that were the obvious solution. "…I'm sure he'll calm down." Both king and attendant glanced towards the doorway as Susa strode over to receive instruction; Kagami still struggling and sprinkling drying mud across the stone floor, but at least not trying to head-butt any of the guards while the captain wasn't within arms reach.

His eyes never left Aomine, boring through him, even as the prince of Touou turned his back on his supposed betrothed and returned to mindlessly adding food to his plate. It was a little strange, the vehemence in those red eyes –what kind of a man looked at a stranger like that?

"Hmm…he knows him…" Imayoshi mused, most curiously, as his attendant relayed the king's orders to his captain. Midorima paused, adjusting his glasses, before clearing his throat and replying, "…Prince Aomine _does _have a reputation…"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," he scoffed, "What do you really think?"

There was a long pause, though it was impossible to say whether or not the king interpreted it as thoughtful contemplation or hesitance.

"I…I'm sure I couldn't say, your majesty," Midorima finally replied with a stoniness that at least went uncommented on. But something did seem to strike him, as he called out to Susa, who was gesturing for his men to start dragging Kagami off deeper into the castle again. "Captain?" Susa paused expectantly as the king's attendant nodded towards the table, "…Take some food along with you. It would reflect poorly on the hospitality of our kingdom if we were seen neglecting our guests."

"Right you are, my lord," Susa remarked gruffly, with a slow bow of his head. Even Wakamatsu, still dealing with a nose undoubtedly at least indirectly caused by Aomine, couldn't help but snigger in amusement at seeing the kingdom's Third Captain so staunchly armed with a tray and stiffly traipsing about like some kind of butler. It took a few decent shoves, but apparently the smell of food acted to make Kagami the slightest bit more docile, resulting in no casualties as he was escorted from the room.

* * *

><p>"…Well that went well," Imayoshi mused to his daughter with a reassuring smile, when tedious silence had once again descended on the dining room.<p>

" –Only because they had Prince Kagami bound like a common criminal," Satsuki replied disapprovingly, shaking her head sadly as she eyed the way her cousin had apparently decided that whatever was on the table was more interesting than his impending marriage. "…Imagine what might have happened if he'd been free…He looked like he wanted to hit Aomine-kun…"

"It's a pity he didn't," Imayoshi sighed in genuine disappointment, "He could handle taking a couple of hits now and then…"

"Like he could lay a hand on me," Aomine drawled disinterestedly; only distantly aware that his family was talking about him, and not sharing his cousin's concern. " –He didn't seem like anything special…"

"He's the Prince of Seirin, Aomine-kun, of course he's special," Satsuki insisted, "I mean, with the mud he doesn't look like much, but there's just something about…he makes me think…he kind of…I don't know..." She trailed off, biting her lip, as Aomine hoisted his overloaded plate with an air of accomplishment and flung her a dry look.

"Tch, you're being annoying again, Satsuki," he grumbled dismissively, turning his back on her. Despite the irritation in his voice, there was no fire and no real bite; just disinterest, and that always seemed to hurt her worst.

"You're leaving already?"

"Huh? I only came to get food…"

"_Aomine-kun _it wouldn't hurt you to spend some time with us!"

"Hmm…? Don't wanna."

"I'd forgotten how nice it was to have a meal together as a family," Imayoshi muttered dryly, eyeing his nephew's indifferent escape from the dining room, and wincing as his daughter's voice raised in pitch just ever-so-slightly too much for his ears to enjoy.

"So you don't have anything to even _say_ about this?" she sniffed, folding her arms, "At all?"

"What's there to say?" Aomine snorted dryly, "It's just another engagement. That _Kagami_...he's no big deal." When it became apparent that he was making for one of the nearby exits, Wakamatsu moved to block him; obviously having spent far too long trying to locate him to let him leave so easily.

"Get out of my way," Aomine remarked coolly, eyeing the man opposite him, face still streaking with light bloodstains. But Wakamatsu simply folded his arms and stared him down, as if to ask where he thought he was headed. Blue eyes narrowed; not in the least bit intimidated. "...Or I'll make you."

"Let him go, Wakamatsu…I wouldn't want to risk your nose taking another hit today…" Imayoshi quickly advised, gesturing for the blond soldier to stand down, since it looked like things could come to blows. Wakamatsu looked both thankful that he wasn't going to have to tail the prince, and disappointed that he didn't get the chance to at least take a swing at him. Clucking his tongue in annoyance, he stepped aside.

Imayoshi watched Aomine leave as abruptly as he'd entered, Satsuki shaking her head in resignation and settled back into picking at her food. At least now he was troubling to buckle his pants properly, though he was almost deliberately leaving his shirt hanging wide open for the entire castle to see what kind of amorous activities he'd been engaging in. A pity that his nephew's eyes still seemed dull; he'd been hoping for Kagami to pique his interest a little more.

That being said, Imayoshi was sure that as Aomine stalked from the hall, taking pains to throw a piece of meat at Wakamatsu's face, he heard him musing, "Seirin? …Why do I know that name?"

"He's impossible," Satsuki huffed.

"My Lady. Aomine…I mean, _Prince Aomine_ has always been wilful," Midorima reminded her firmly as she pouted and stuffed morsel into her mouth in a _most_ unladylike fashion to show her annoyance. The spare place set at the table suddenly seeming even emptier now that its intended guest had come and gone without so much as disturbing the glass of wine laid out beside it.

"Yes, but...to treat this so lightly...even for him," Satsuki sighed in frustration, "Does he think he won't actually have to marry?"

"Tch, have you seen his track record?" Wakamatsu scoffed from over by the doorway, before looking a little sheepish that he'd spoken so out of turn in the presence of royals, "...I mean...my lady..."

"No, you have a point," she admitted, "Father..." But Imayoshi wasn't exactly listening to those defeatist attitudes. Instead he was thinking back to Kagami. He was thinking back to that dirty mop of red hair, and the way those crimson eyes had peered out from under it. Eyes that, despite being in a foreign land, and despite having once belonged to Kirisaki Daiichi, still managed to, at the risk of sounding cheesy, burn with a boldness that he hadn't seen in quite some time. He'd caught a flash of it on the night that Kagami had arrived; and he'd seen it again today.

_Spirited_. How..._admirable. _

Yes. The nobles could say what they liked; his daughter could be as skeptical as she wished, but he truly did feel like this time was going to a whole lot more interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>And there is chapter two done! I apologise for length; I have no idea how long each of these chapters is going to turn out to be! And so, we have a not-so-interested and maybe not-so-princely, Prince Aomine, and a Kagami who...well, what <em>has<em> he been through? Stay tuned to find out more! Hope you enjoyed the read.  
>Much love<br>xx K**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Thought I should hurry along and put up a new chapter! And, as this chapter turned out to be a bit longer than I'd intended, I wound up splitting it in half. This means that the next one will be up hopefully pretty shortly, too!  
>So, read on and I hope you enjoy!<strong>

* * *

><p>Susa Yoshinori really wished that he didn't know with complete and utter certainty that he was going to become intimately familiar with current situation. Though his own practiced, tolerant expression gave nothing away, his men weren't quite so guarded, and he could see in their faces that they very much shared his resignation.<p>

He really wished that he could say that this was going to be the last time that they would be hauling Prince Kagami Taiga back to confinement.

It was crystal clear from the look on his face that they weren't going to be nearly so lucky. In his time as a soldier, Susa had had dealings with his fair share of prisoners –it came with the territory, and as a captain, responsibility for captives often fell to him. There were all kinds; the ones that cried, the ones that begged, the ones that refused to talk, or eat, but the ones that had the same glint of determination in their eyes that sparked in Prince Kagami's –they were the ones that proved most troublesome.

There was something that drove them to be free…which inevitably caused problems for the people trying to prevent that.

He'd led them a right chase today, especially for someone fresh out of the infirmary and with apparently no clue as to the layout of the castle. Susa's men were looking a right wreck, really –covered in dirt like they'd been training particularly hard all day, and bruised and battered and aching from bounding down stairs and trying to bring the stubborn prince to the ground. An exercise in pursuit, like that, might even have proved _refreshing_, had the captain not been painfully aware that it was more like likely going to happen all over again.

Even now, Susa was making sure to maintain his vicelike grip on the redhead's bicep, lest he try to make a break for it before they reached his new quarters. And, judging from the way he kept trying to head-butt and shoulder his way free; that was exactly what Kagami had in mind. It was a good thing that Susa was well-matched for the prince in size –anyone too much smaller might well have been flung aside by now.

Some of the men had suggested blindfolding him –probably to disorient the poor man even more, but there was no need; Touou was a large castle and easily confounding to those not familiar with its halls. That, and, as loosely as the term 'guest' seemed to be used in his situation, he _was_ one –a prince at that, and Susa was loath to force him to suffer any further indignities; the gag was enough already.

Most men would have found it humiliating to walk the halls like that; such an obvious prisoner, despite what the king might say, and would turn their heads away at the looks of disdain from passing noblemen. But not this man –and Susa had to wonder at it –this man held his head high and met their scorn like it was nothing…as if he was daring them to do more than simply glare.

It was a relief to finally reach the room that Lord Midorima had designated as the prince's new lodgings; the door open and the sound of a servant busying themselves inside.

"Welcome to your new room, my lord," Susa remarked politely, as they drew up; two of his men automatically taking up a position on either side of the large wooden door, "Please reconsider trying to escape again," he added, tugging the gag away from the redhead's mouth and narrowly avoiding losing a finger in the process, "We _will_ catch you."

"Don't count on it," Kagami spat back hotly, again trying to yank away from him and failing, "…And don't call me that –"

"…What would you ask that I call you, then?" Susa inquired flatly, only for the redhead to glance away in a childish refusal to answer. "_My lord_ it is, then." He turned to beckon to the servant in the room, who seemed to be in the process of filling a bath, "Servant, come. Lord Midorima ordered us to bring food for our guest." There was a brief pause as a bucket was dumped to the stones and the dark-haired servant wandered forwards to receive the large tray of food that one of Susa's men had been bearing.

"You must be hungry, my lord," Susa remarked, cutting the bonds tying the redhead's wrists in a single motion, but easily gripping his fists before either of them could come flailing to strike him. It was admirable the amount of strength still in those hands considering how he hadn't eaten since coming to the castle –not to mention the ordeal he must have been through while getting there.

"_Kagami_," the prince growled irritably, his voice failing to mask the loud groan of his stomach. Susa felt the hands in his grip relax slightly, almost as though he had only just now been struck by the realisation that he was famished. "Just Kagami…Is fine…"

_How strange. _

"As you wish," Susa replied dutifully, unfortunately used to the eccentricities of royals. One couldn't serve King Imayoshi for any amount of time without coming to acknowledge that sometimes it was impossible trying to understand them. He nudged Kagami forwards slowly, ushering him towards the room and nodding at his men to get ready to barricade the door.

"…So you _are_ imprisoning me," Kagami scoffed angrily, though he thankfully seemed to be accepting that that door was still going to close on him no matter how much he tried to escape from Susa's grip.

"If that's how you choose to see it," Susa answered neutrally, releasing the redhead's wrists and giving him a firm shove into the room. Before Kagami even had time to react to being freed, the door was slamming shut behind him.

"Hopefully you'll find this one a little harder to break down."

Kagami curses were quickly drowned out by the sound of something heavy scraping against the stone floor of the corridor; a sure sign that his most obvious exit was being walled off. He slammed a fist into the wood angrily, but was rewarded with nothing but a muffled thump and a stinging hand. But that didn't stop him from aggressively swinging another punch at the door, and then another, and then finally knocking his forehead against the solid wood in frustration.

Of course, none of that did any good.

"Ugh…." Kagami groaned into the door; his hands clenching and unclenching in an attempt to stop his shoulders from shaking with fury.

This was not happening.

What was Hanamiya thinking, sending him here? Ever since Kagami had been a boy, not a day had gone by without some bitter reminder that he was going to be chained to Kirisaki Daiichi until he died. Hanamiya had made sure that he could never call Kirisaki home, and yet could never leave. And now he was far from there, but still trapped, all over again; doomed to marry a man whose very presence set him on edge and had his guard rising.

Even just thinking of that man's face and the crude clench of fingers digging into the flesh of his ass made Kagami's anger flare, and his fist met wood again, only to throb uncomfortably.

"I take it your escape didn't go so well."

Kagami had forgotten that he wasn't alone, and the sudden comment made him start in surprise, prompting him to spin around to face whoever it was that had decided to mock him so familiarly. And then, when he recognised who it was perched at ease on the windowsill, he couldn't help but scoff in annoyance.

"Ugh," he snorted in heated aggression, "…What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" Takao snorted, holding up his empty bucket with one hand and gesturing dramatically with the other at the full bathtub a few paces in front of him, "…Seeing as _someone_ can't seem to go more than three hours without needing another bath…" He met Kagami's gaze rather coolly, and then his eyes skated down, resigned to how dirty the redhead had managed to get in such a short space of time, "Seriously, where did you even find all this dirt…?"

Kagami didn't answer; the growling of his stomach the only thing that was currently rivalling his anger. He could smell all that food just sitting there; taunting him, making his mouth water something terrible. He wanted to shout and beat that door down, and if it would've done him any good he might've demanded to be set free. But the sudden gnawing emptiness of his stomach made him realise that he needed to regain his strength. In the years at Kirisaki, he'd come to know hunger, of course, but it had become so constant; so ever-present, that it had eventually come to be a part of him, and only now that all this food had been placed before him, did he realise just how famished –and therefore, just how weak, he was.

His stomach growled again as he made a beeline for the table, and he swallowed, and with that, tried to push down his rage. Getting angry in Kirisaki had never done him any good; never gotten him anywhere, and what good was he if he stayed starved when there was food on offer?

Tentatively, he reached out towards the tray of food, as though it all might vanish if he touched it; as though there was some price he might have to pay. It was all for him, though, right? That's what they'd said? And was this just one meal? The captain guy hadn't mentioned anything about having to ration it, right?

"…What was that?" Takao inquired, informing Kagami that he had mumbled a question aloud. The redhead didn't look at him, just licked his lips and picked up a piece of soft bread. It wasn't warm anymore, but it was definitely fresh.

"Will I get more?" he asked vacantly, and once again, the servant was struck with how strange he sounded.

"Of course," he replied curiously, raising an eyebrow, "You're a guest here. We're not going to starve you." Red eyes flicked over to him, assessing his face as though searching for some kind of deceit. But if there was anything in Takao's face it was puzzlement, and that seemed to be enough. Kagami crammed the piece of bread in his mouth and couldn't help but let out a soft murmur of something much like delight at how soft and delicious it was.

"…At least wash your hands…" Takao sighed rather belatedly, shaking his head in disbelief and sitting back against the stone wall as he watched the redhead wolf down morsel after morsel; looking as though he couldn't get enough of it. It was actually _astounding_ how fast the food vanished –Captain Susa had been quite generous with the food he'd brought up, but nothing about that seemed to daunt Kagami; he was eating as though someone might steal it from his very fingertips if he slowed.

"…Wow," the servant couldn't help but remark with a low whistle. The sound attracted Kagami's attention and he glanced over, licking his fingers; cheeks stuffed to bursting and food scraps stuck to his chin. Takao burst out laughing, and the redhead looked appropriately put out.

"What?" he sniffed, his voice muffled by the sheer volume of food still crammed in his mouth.

"Nothing, nothing," Takao chuckled, waving away the accusatory look the redhead was giving him, "I just…you're really hungry, aren't you?"

"…I can't remember a time when I wasn't," Kagami shrugged simply, turning back to his emptying plate as though it were no big deal. Takao couldn't help the way his eyes saddened for the briefest of moments; caught off guard by the flat, easy honesty of the statement. But then his gaze sharpened again and he let his crooked smile smear across his face again.

"Well, soon you'll be our prince," he commented offhandedly, "And you'll never have to go hungry again."

Any lesser man would have withered at the sudden heaviness that fell across the room. Takao, however, simply inclined his head most curiously as Kagami paused mid-chew, and slowly swallowed, hanging his head and glaring down at the table with eyes that could've held lightening. His jaw clenched, hands balling into fists on the wood of the table; curled so tight his knuckles were turning white. That almost child-like simplicity that had been brought on by the gift of food just a moment ago had vanished in an instant; replaced by something much darker.

"I won't," he whispered vehemently, almost as if speaking to himself. And there a kind of reckless defiance in his voice that Takao couldn't help but shiver; finding it all too like the kind of desperate tone one would sometimes hear from the mouths of condemned men. "I won't marry him."

"Ah, I'd heard that you didn't take it very well," Takao mused, but quietly, because even though he was relatively confident with his ability to evade bodily harm, he'd been a servant of Touou for long enough to be a good judge of men. He didn't fear him; he knew that Prince Kagami wasn't a malicious man…but he could tell that, genuinely angered, this man could be a force to be reckoned with. He could practically see the storm clouds brewing atop the redhead's crown; thunder rumbling ominously, and lightning crackling across his scowl.

"Did you know?" Kagami suddenly asked, turning to face Takao so suddenly and with such heat that the servant actually flinched, and had to scramble for purchase on the stone to stop from toppling backwards out the window.

"Huh?" he inquired innocently, rather comically clinging to the wall.

" –You knew why I was here, didn't you?" he accused, "…That's why you laughed at me…"

"Laughed?" Takao repeated innocently, "Now that doesn't sound like something I'd do…" Kagami looked so much like he wasn't buying the façade that, despite the suspicion in those red eyes, he snickered, "…Of course I knew. I told you, didn't I? The servants know everything."

"So why didn't you tell me?" he huffed crossly, getting to his feet and kicking his chair over in frustration.

"…Well, you didn't ask," Takao reminded him rather pointedly, taking the opportunity to remove himself from the window ledge to check on the bath. "And you could've. Though hearing it from me wouldn't have made it any less true." And knowing the king, he probably would've been thrilled to be the one to deliver the news. King Imayoshi was a lot of things, and sometimes _petty_ was one of them.

It seemed that Kagami at least seemed to accept that on that note, he was entirely correct.

"…Wait," he muttered in realisation, "…You say you know everything here? Does that mean you know a way out of the castle?"

" –I'm assuming you're meaning _other_ than the front gate?" Takao raised an eyebrow, and received an aggrieved glare in response. He chuckled, "Of course. And your bath is ready; there are new clothes sitting on the edge of your bed. Again."

" –So you could tell me how to get out of here?" A small flash of hope had crossed Kagami's face, and Takao somehow found it the slightest bit amusing, "Tell me!"

He couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt for laughing, and then another at the way Kagami's face fell as he came to realise that as friendly as Takao was, he was still a stranger, with loyalties that didn't lie with him.

"Just because I know doesn't mean I can help," he chirped, although he allowed himself to sound at least a little apologetic, "I do serve other masters, after all, Kagami." He had to take a moment to duck again as his empty bucket went flying straight towards his head. It hit the heavy door with a heavy thud and cracked. Ah, maybe he shouldn't tease so much.

"M'lords?" he added brightly as a signal to the guards outside that he was ready to be let out. That loud, grating noise started up again in response; the soldiers most obligingly beginning to move aside whatever heavy item of furniture was blockading the door. "But, nonetheless…" he added, glancing playfully towards the redhead, who looked like his frustration was rising again and might threaten to boil over at any moment. "…I do wish you all the best for your future escape attempts. God knows the castle guards could use the exercise…"

He only just managed to slip out the door before a foot stool came flying his way.

* * *

><p>"You've got to be kidding me."<p>

"I'm afraid not, Wakamatsu," Kobori replied, inclining with his head for the blond soldier to follow him, "Captain's orders."

" –But I'm not meant to cover for Iwamura until later this evening," he protested, gesturing to his unfinished meal as proof that he was off duty for the meantime. Kobori simply gestured again, and he was forced to get to his feet, his comrades snickering at him good-naturedly.

"…The captain's seen fit to station more men on Prince Kagami, I mean…_Kagami_," Kobori informed him, still sounding calm but no doubt as displeased by the news as the rest of the soldiers gathered in their dining quarters. "…The bolts on his door are apparently coming loose."

"Seriously?" Wakamatsu grumbled, "What is he, some kind of animal?" He stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth for the road, and debated about just making off with his plate. "…The captain doesn't think he'll get loose, does he?"

"Maybe that's why he sent for you," Tsugawa piped up, mouth full of food, "You're the most used to chases, since you've had to run after Prince Aomine for years…."

" –Why you little…"

"Wakamatsu," Kobori called firmly, because if they lingered in the castle guards' dining hall any longer, there was every chance that Wakamatsu might throttle the younger soldier. Not for the first time. The blond huffily stalked away from the table, making sure to cuff Tsugawa over the back of the head with more force than necessary, before following his comrade out into the corridor.

"So he's _still_ at it?" he muttered, shaking his head incredulously, "That guy…can't he just give it a rest? Most people would've given up trying to break the door down pretty quickly…"

"It's only been a few days," Kobori reminded him, "You can't blame him for trying."

"Well yeah," Wakamatsu snorted, "But seriously, he's knocking the bolts loose? Did someone accidentally leave a _battering ram_ in there or something?"

They heard Kagami a good few corridors before they even approached his room. The noblemen roaming through that part of the castle gave the pair of soldiers looks of disdain, as though it was their fault that he was causing such an ungodly din. It wasn't just the banging that seemed to be echoing through hallways, but the shouting too –was it really so necessary to be yelling so violently?

"Captain!" Kobori called out as soon as they rounded the corner to discover both Iwamura and their Captain Susa bodily pressed up against the door uncomfortably, and grimacing with every quake of the door.

"You. Can't. Keep. Me. In here!" Kagami was yelling from inside his room, punctuating each word with a loud thump as he bodily hurled himself against the door. The bolts keeping the door locked were rattling; definitely coming loose, as was rumoured. Even the heavy stone bench holding the lower part of the door closed seemed to have shifted since Wakamatsu had last been stationed there.

"How does he not have any broken bones?" Iwamura gritted out –sounding in the slightest bit impressed –as both Kobori and Wakamatsu jogged over and slammed themselves up against the door to give their sweating, bruised captain a moment of respite. Susa rolled his aching shoulder, nodding to Iwamura, and, with his help during the pause between Kagami's blows against the door, heaved the stone bench back into place with a mighty shove. Stone met wood with a heavy thud; blocking all movement of the door and taking some of the strain off the protesting bolts.

"T-That should hold him for a little," Iwamura groaned, slumping down onto the bench and wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, "It took him half a day to move that thing…" he winced as the door shuddered against his back again.

"Why can't we just throw him in a prison cell…" Wakamatsu sighed, "Those doors are a lot stronger –they're _made_ to hold people who want to break out."

"Kagami is our guest," Susa reminded him firmly, and there was a scoff of disbelief in from inside the room, "King Imayoshi doesn't want him…treated like a prisoner…" Even though he was a good soldier who would follow the orders of his king, he at least sounded as though he didn't quite understand the logic of saying something like that, and then barricading someone into a room.

"You know, I'm glad that His Majesty doesn't have me chasing after that good-for-nothing prince now, but I gotta say, this isn't much of a step up," Wakamatsu added gruffly, shaking his head and glaring at the door as though that might quieten down the racket, "Prince Kagami, would you give it a rest?"

"…Don't call him that," Iwamura and Susa immediately sighed, as there was a particularly loud crash, followed by a heavy groan of pain, "It seems to make him more aggressive," Iwamura explained.

"Kagami, you're going to hurt yourself," Susa sighed, the beating against the door having paused for longer than usual, and several grunts of pain informing him that that had probably already happened.

"I don't care."

"Would you stop being a brat, already?" Wakamatsu snapped, shaking his head in exasperation before lowering his voice, "…If I get one more poncy nobleman glaring at me because of this guy…"

" –Then you'll bow and do nothing," Susa ordered, to remind him of his place, "Or you'll likely be back babysitting the prince –the one that actually knows how to escape the castle. You know? The one you never catch." That shut him up all right.

"He'll need to sleep sometime soon," he continued quietly, "…When he does, call the servants to bring some food; Lord Midorima wishes to make sure we aren't seen to be _inhospitable_." It really did show their relative discipline by the fact that his men all resisted the urge to look rather pointedly at the stone bench barring the bolted door.

* * *

><p>Kagami had never realised that pretending to be asleep could be such a good idea. While crouching on the floor groaning over his aching shoulder, he had happened to overhear that a servant would be sent in while he was asleep. And for that, they'd need to open the door, which gave him a miniscule moment of opportunity.<p>

He'd planned for it to be Takao again, because of all the servants Kagami had known, even at Kirisaki, he seemed to be the most perceptive and uncannily agile –so who knew what the other servants of Touou were like? In retrospect, if he was right about Takao's keen senses, he probably wouldn't have fallen for the clothes stuffed under the sheets to mimic the shape of a sleeping body –but the trembling, wide-eyed servant that inched in through the door, did.

It had been _very _satisfying to deal a solid punch to the face of one of the guards hovering outside his door –if he'd had more time, he might've tried to swing another; but there were five of them at his brilliant moment of escape, and he didn't want to get into the inescapable grip of that Captain again.

There was yelling behind him, but whatever it was felt muffled by the sound of his own rushing blood and feet slapping painfully against the cold stone of the hallway. Two other guards suddenly materialised before him, blocking off the end of the corridor, but Kagami didn't stop, simply veering towards the smaller one and barrelling into him with the force of a charging beast. The lighter man went flying, barely causing Kagami to break his stride.

The other man immediately gave chase; the sound of heavy boots echoing on his tail.

_Shit_.

This sprint was no better planned out than his last –he had no clue where he was going, or where he was, or even where he might find some exit. He didn't know how high up he was either, from the view outside his window he was a good two or three storeys above an open path, but that could still be any number of floors above ground level.

"Get out of the way!" He shouted aggressively, barging straight through a small group of well-dressed men that, from what he knew about nobles, were probably comparing sleeves or something. "_MOVE!"_

It was with a kind of sick thrill that he heard several shrieks rising up as he ran; men and women backing against walls and ledges in their hurry to get out of his way.

"Stop him!" the guards were shouting, accomplishing nothing but adding to the huge commotion. Kagami didn't dare look back yet; his eyes were too busy searching desperately for signs of a staircase leading _down_. It wasn't helping at all! These stone hallways all looked the same to him!

"Look out!" he barked, rounding a corner and seeing a trio of servants trundling across his path, bearing between them a large barrel that looked far too heavy for even three of them to be carrying. He sped up, seeing looks of terror on their faces as their eyes seemed to dart between his accelerating form and the barrel they were bearing.

"Move!" He shouted aggressively, taking a giant leap into the air just as all three unanimously decided to drop their burden in the middle of the corridor. It hit the stone with an almighty crash, splitting open and deep red wine spilling all over the floor. Kagami heard a gasp of horror as he landed, almost losing his footing as he landed in the rich-smelling liquid.

"Stairs?" he snarled at them, taking a moment to look back over his shoulder and seeing the guards still in hot pursuit.

"Next left; end of the hallway," one of the women squeaked in shock, before clamping her hands over her mouth and backing against the wall before she got trampled by the approaching guards. It took only moments for Kagami to locate the staircase, and took them with a flying leap, landing at the bottom with knees shaking and groaning with despair, but still choosing to serve him well.

That would give him a minute to spare.

Kagami didn't know exactly how far he ran; how many corridors he found himself sprinting down. He tried to make some sense of the place; every so often coming across a tapestry or an ugly sculpture that he was sure he'd seen while being escorted to his room –but this castle seemed so much more impossibly big than Kirisaki Daiichi that he was beginning to wonder if he was maybe trapped in some kind of maze.

It was only when the footsteps pursuing him began to sound muffled and distant that he allowed himself to slow; ears sharp for any sign that he was about to be cornered. His lungs were burning and his knees twitching and threatening to give out at any moment –he'd taken another flight of stairs like the first and it seemed that the stone floors were doing his joints no favours.

"Fuck, where am I?" he whispered to himself, panting to try and catch his breath. This entire sprint had been fuelled by adrenaline, and he was feeling a little lightheaded from it all. Hanamiya had never given him a lot of freedom to build up his stamina, and it was beginning to take a toll, no matter how strong his will was.

Taking advantage of the silence and the emptiness of the corridor, he began walking more slowly; but still tense and prepared to run at the first sign of unfriendly faces. Touou certainly was a much nicer place than Kirisaki, he had to admit; the corridors were well-lit by torches and the sun, and decorated with bright hangings and tapestries. Even if he was a prisoner here, he didn't feel that unwelcome cold; didn't feel quite so caged.

What was similar, though, was that even though there didn't appear to be anyone else in the hallway with him; his skin was prickling as though he was being watched. It didn't feel malicious; didn't feel _dangerous_, didn't make him feel the need to watch his back, like it had in Kirisaki, but he still didn't quite know what to make of it.

In fact, why was the hallway empty in the first place?

" –W-would you…just…" Kagami suddenly spun around at the familiar voice, baulking away as he saw with a grimace that that guard –Wakamatsu –had suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor he'd been making for. The blond soldier let out a groan, panting heavily and leaning on the wall to catch his breath. " –Give me a moment…" he added, apparently seeing flight stamped all over Kagami's body language," –Just calm down will you?" he growled, beginning to stalk forwards, "We know this castle better than you; we'll just keep hunting you down…"

"Y-you say that," Kagami huffed, trying to keep his breathing even, "…But you're already getting tired…" Wakamatsu appeared to be alone, but he doubted it would stay that way for long.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you," the soldier informed him, but there was a firmness to his words that told the redhead that he would do it, if he had to. Kagami glanced back over his shoulder, scowling when he heard the echoes of heavy boots on stone. A quick glace told him that Wakamatsu was approaching slowly, as though he were inching towards a particularly large, skittish cat. He just watched him, making no move to flee.

It was only when Wakamatsu was only a few paces away that he reacted; lunging forwards and swinging a fist out to stun the soldier. But apparently the guard had been expecting such an attack, because he ducked with incredible speed, and tackled Kagami squarely in the gut before he had the chance to make a run for it.

Even winded, the redhead managed to deliver a hefty blow to Wakamatsu's stomach with a knee, and the pair of them toppled to the floor; Kagami wriggling to get the guard's weight off him. He managed for a second, only to have his feet knocked out from under him by a cheap kick meeting his ankles. He tumbled back down again, crying out in pain as his wrists were forced to take the brunt of the force.

"Sorry –" Wakamatsu began to say, before letting out a howl of his own as Kagami lashed a foot out at his knee; aiming to incapacitate him. He missed his mark; sparing the soldier's knee, but still managed to get him hobbling with a thigh wracked with pain.

"Let me…you'll never…" Kagami snapped, crawling along the floor and ignoring his shaken joints as he scrambled to his feet.

"Stop!" Wakamatsu groaned, flinging himself forwards and bringing the redhead to the ground again by the scruff of his shirt. Kagami's skull cracked hard against the stone and he let out another thick groan of pain as his head swam. Partly in a daze and black spots dotting his vision, he felt himself being rolled onto his stomach; his cheek pressed against the cool floor. He let out a groan of discomfort, continuing to struggle as his hands were yanked behind his back.

"Captain! I got him!" Wakamatsu hollered, grunting from the effort of trying to keep the redhead was writhing free, "Can you…he's…_Captain_!"

All of a sudden, a nearby door was flung open with an unearthly crash, startling both men out of their skin and causing Wakamatsu to momentarily lose his grip on Kagami. That moment of pause was enough for him to buck the soldier's weight off him and begin to scramble to his feet.

"What the hell's going on out here?"

It was the voice that made him pause; that deep, thick purr that sent prickles of warning coursing across his skin. As soon as he was on his feet, he spun around; eyes somehow missing the guards in his peripheral and instead zeroing in on the man stalking out from a nearby room with nothing but a white sheet draped haphazardly around his waist.

Lazy blue eyes suddenly narrowed darkly; meeting his heated gaze without so much as flinching. Kagami's brow furrowed into a scowl, his lip curling distastefully at the image the Prince of Touou was presenting. One tanned hand was at his crotch; the only thing pinning the sheet in place, and his entire rippling, dark body was glistening with a light, telling glaze of sweat.

"Oh, it's just you…" The contempt in the comment felt like a slap to the face, and coupled with the condescendingly quirked eyebrow, it made Kagami's pride rear indignantly.

"Why you –" he began to growl, before squawking as he was abruptly seized under his arms by both Susa and Iwamura, who had taken full advantage of his moment of distraction. He could've sworn he heard the prince _scoff_ at him, picking at an ear disinterestedly and looking down his nose at the redhead. Those eyes; they looked content for the meantime, but Kagami could still feel the predator lurking behind that haze, the one that wore that dangerous look that made him feel uncomfortably hunted.

"Prince Aomine," Susa greeted formally, squeezing Kagami's bicep hard since it seemed that he was on the verge of starting some kind of confrontation, "…We apologise for…" He paused, taking in the prince's state of undress, before settling on, "_Interrupting_."

"Hah?" Aomine yawned lazily, cricking his neck and waving away the apology, "Tch, it's not like it was that amazing anyways…" Where Kagami's face _glowered_ at his tone of indifference, Susa maintained a practiced neutral expression, and merely nodded to excuse them.

" –Don't," Susa advised Kagami in a tone that somehow made him feel like a chastised child. Apparently he'd seen a dark glimmer of resentment building in the redhead's crimson gaze and decided to minimise the chances of violence. "You're coming back with us, now." And the redhead knew he had no choice in the matter, now –the captain's grip was like some kind of shackle, and he knew that no amount of struggling or trying to shake him off would do him any good. Resigned to that much at least, Kagami had no choice but to allow himself to be tugged away, back down the very corridor he had entered through; right back to where he'd started.

He could feel eyes on him again; but these eyes were different from the ones he had felt when he could've sworn he was alone. These ones…he could feel them burning through his clothes; raking up and down his body, and when he glanced back over his shoulder, he caught blue, glinting eyes fixed on his ass.

Kagami's eyes narrowed in displeasure, glimpsing the other man's lips pursed almost in contemplation, and he shuddered again as he felt the ghost of a tanned finger brushing against his chin. Almost as though sensing he'd been caught staring, Aomine's dark gaze rose to meet his, cool, detached and exuding that kind of intense aura that had the redhead's fighting spirit rearing its head.

From the corner of his eye, Susa saw the exchange; felt in the slightest bit grateful that he wasn't standing between them, lest he be burned. But as well as that, he also felt, not for the first time, and not for the last, that he really didn't understand the mind of his king.

* * *

><p>"Kagami, it's been <em>three days<em>," Wakamatsu groaned, head resting against the wall in the hopes that the cool stones would do something to relieve his pounding headache, "Can you _stop_ with the banging?"

For a merciful few moments, the rhythmic pounding on the thick wooden door ceased, as if the redhead inside the room was contemplating this.

"…Are you going to let me out?" he inquired flatly, and the blond could only let out a weak, muffled whine.

"…You know I can't do that –" he began to sigh, but the banging started up again even before he'd finished his refusal. He let out a dry sob of despair, glancing across the doorway to where even the ever-collected Otsubo was looking as though he was on the verge of breaking point. He let out a low breath, trying to block out the loud, heavy banging, punctuated every so often with an aggressive roar. And then of course, there was the second stone bench that several of them had had to lift on top of the first to try and reduce the strain on the protesting bolts. And though it did the job, with every few blows against the door, there was an unpleasant scratching noise as the benches grated against each other.

"Gods, when's that Tsugawa meant to show up?" Wakamatsu grumbled, "I can't wait to get some actual sleep…"

" –Aren't your quarters still in this wing of the castle?" Otsubo inquired with a raised eyebrow, "Can't you still hear him from there?"

"Yeah, so, like I could get any sleep there," the blond muttered, shaking his head in resignation, "I'm taking a nap in the infirmary; I don't know how any of the noblemen manage to sleep around here."

"Poorly," Otsubo informed him gruffly, "The Captain and even His Majesty have been dealing with a lot of complaints…" There was a particularly loud crash from inside and both guards winced in resignation; Otsubo clapping a hand to his forehead with a long-suffering sigh, "_Please_ don't throw your furniture around…"

At points during the last few days, Kagami had begun to wonder if just a little bit of Kirisaki had rubbed off on him, seeing as he found a small shred of joy in the knowledge that he was _thoroughly_ pissing off his guards, and also a fair portion of the castle population. Being unceremoniously flung back into his room had made for a frustrating experience; heightened by the sound of something even heavier being shoved against his door, and the memory of probing blue eyes. A good few kicks against the door hadn't even made the thing rattle this time around.

Nevertheless, it proved an _excellent_ outlet for his aggression –something to kick and throw his weight against in protest of being locked up. It wasn't exactly his idea of exercise either, but it was better than nothing; and he couldn't just sit there and let them think they'd won, after all. The side effect of driving his guards completely up the wall with the relatively continuous thuds was an unforeseen bonus.

" –Wouldn't it just be easier to chase him until he wears himself out?" Wakamatsu mused as an alternative to having to sit in front of this godforsaken door and deal with the pounding of his head. "Or knock him out again; that seemed to work really well the first time?"

" –He can hear you," Otsubo pointed out, "…And don't worry, it's about time for him to start getting tired again, and he's probably hungry, too."

"…I don't know how he can be; he eats enough to feed half the guard…"

"…Hasn't the Captain recently reminded you to watch your words a little more carefully?" Apparently he had, because Wakamatsu glanced away guiltily and clamped his mouth shut. Otsubo could resist a small, wry smile. "I'm going to find a servant to get some food sent up…"

"You don't _find_ servants," Wakamatsu snorted, folding his arms disgruntledly, "They just kinda…_pop up_." Otsubo had to chuckle –he _did_ have a point.

"I'll be back in a minute," he informed him, "I'll tell them to send up something for you as well?"

"Something alcoholic would be _really _great." Wakamatsu didn't know why his comrade seemed to find that funny; shaking his head in amusement as he tramped off down the corridor in search of a servant. No doubt there would be at least one lingering just around the corner. The blond watched him go, and as soon as he was out of sight, turned towards the door.

"Hey –hey…quit banging for a second," he growled in a low voice, "I'm serious!" he added, a moment later, when it seemed that Kagami didn't seem like he was going to do as he asked, "How do you feel about cutting a deal?"

There was a moment of blissful silence.

"…You wanted to knock me out," Kagami reminded him darkly.

"Yeah well, I'm going crazy here, and you'd knock me out if you had the chance," he muttered, and there was a mutinous grumble of affirmation from the other side of the door, "So, you want out? I can let you out."

More silence, before Kagami suspiciously inquired, "What's the catch?"

" –If we catch you again, you quit trying to break the fuc…_bloody_ door down," Wakamatsu offered.

"Tch," Kagami scoffed, "…You'd just trip me as soon as you opened the fucking door. No deal." Wakamatsu audibly groaned –he had in fact considered that cheap kind of trick, despite his complete confidence that he and his guards would be able to apprehend Kagami again before he even managed to get anywhere close to an exit. Too bad the prisoner had seen through that.

"Ugh," he sighed, relieved at least that it seemed as though Kagami was willing to entertain the notion of striking a bargain, should they get any more infuriated by the commotion he was causing. The chase through the castle the other day had caused riot enough –nobles squawking about not feeling safe, and having their peace disrupted and the general mess the foreign prince had caused…but now he was just straight up causing constant _noise_. Screams of war; grating of sword against sword, and all manner of the loud, continuous noises that could be heard at the training grounds or in the city; _those_ were things he could deal with. This thudding pounding, he could not.

" –How about a head-start?" he offered, after a moment of consideration. That seemed reasonable.

"…Tch," came that prideful scoff, "I don't need that to outrun you; just don't fucking trip me…"

"…I guess that's –"

"This is not a negotiation, Wakamatsu," Otsubo's deep voice interrupted suddenly, and Wakamatsu yanked his face away from the door to glare across the stone benches at his comrade, who had been unusually stealthy in returning to his post. The tall brunette merely raised an eyebrow at him, neither scathing, nor amused, it seemed, and Wakamatsu couldn't help but let out a resigned sigh at having been thwarted.

"Did you hear that, Kagami?" Otsubo inquired, to make it very clear that he wasn't getting out that easily. Instead of replying, there was just that aggravating, heavy thud of a fist meeting wood, and Wakamatsu glared over at his comrade accusingly. "You're cracking a little too easily, don't you think?" he added rather pointedly, ignoring the blond's look.

"You will too, I guarantee it."

* * *

><p><em><strong>A few days later...<strong>_

"…Not that this is the strangest thing I've walked in on," Takao remarked conversationally, "And it uh, certainly explains why the soldiers look a little less on edge but…" He paused, cocking his head as he surveyed the scene laid out before him. "…Do you want to maybe explain what's going on?" It was amazing that he didn't start laughing sooner.

"Oh, so this is funny to you?" Kagami snapped from the floor most vehemently, kicking an empty plate in his direction and missing by miles.

"Yeah," Takao cackled, unable to prevent himself from laughing at the way the redhead was (most furiously), lying in a heap on the floor, tied to a chair. "What happened?"

"…He was trying to get free and knocked himself over," Tsugawa snickered from the doorway, earning a most heated glare from the angry redhead. Takao didn't exactly think that tying him up was a very good plan –from what little they'd seen of Kagami, he tended to react very badly to being bound.

"No, I mean, why are you even tied to a chair?" he inquired, gracious enough to scuttle over and start tugging the chair back upright. Kagami mutinously glared at him out from under his long bangs.

"…My guards overreacted," he muttered.

"He left us no choice," Susa informed the servant, sounding rather as though this _was_ a last resort.

"Well, you _were_ driving half the castle insane…" Takao reminded him rather pointedly, as the redhead began tugging on his restraints before heaving an irritated sigh of resignation since they didn't seem to be budging, "Oh, so you can beat down a door but you can't break a measly bit of rope?"

" –You should probably watch your mouth, servant," Tsugawa warned airily, at the same time as Susa heavily requested, "Please don't rile him up…And Tsugawa, mind yourself."

"But Captain, he's just a serv –" A solemn stare from his captain apparently served to silence the smaller man.

In hindsight, Kagami should have expected the guards to take matters into their own hands. He just hadn't expected to wake up one morning bound quite solidly to the sturdiest chair in the room. His fury had done nothing but ensured that he toppled over into a most uncomfortable heap and left to struggle against his bonds on the floor in a most demeaning manner. The Captain had apologised, and he seemed sincere enough, but that hadn't exactly diffused Kagami's anger at being tied up.

He hated being confined like some kind of prisoner. But more still, he couldn't stand being bound like this. The rope burned with cruel familiarity, and losing the use of his limbs gave him a sense of helplessness that he hated with a passion. He wished like hell he could hate his guards for doing this to him, but, as strange as it seemed, he couldn't.

Strangely, he felt as though there wasn't any malice behind the action, even if he had admittedly been difficult enough to warrant some vindictiveness. The rope was tight but only so much to hold him in place. All the guards stayed obediently outside his room, out of sight –weren't in there throwing things, or jeering at him, and even out in the hallway, they weren't laughing or mocking his state. He was untouched and unharmed, and the Captain sounded serious when he said he found no joy in having to do that –but it had to be done to preserve the peace of the castle.

"…You're not going to untie me, are you?" Kagami deadpanned, glaring at Takao almost accusingly.

"You got it," he replied lightly, "Wouldn't want to step on any toes." Kagami didn't believe him for a second.

Irritably, he rocked in his chair again, scowling to himself and then down at his restraints. He had to get rid of these ropes. And then he was going to have to _think_. He couldn't just _run_ again, as much as he claimed that he could, and as much of an easy plan that seemed. If he just kept blundering about blindly, he was guaranteed to wind up getting caught again. And that would mean starting from scratch. And even though the door was a good outlet for this _intense frustration_, it was doing him no good.

A glance out the nearby window helped, just a little. He could see the bright, clear sky, and even past the walls of the castle, he could see the peaks of mountains, beyond. For the first time in years; for what felt like the first time in forever...escape was an option. He hadn't quite gotten there yet; but getting free; getting back out there was a _possibility. _

Out there; he didn't know exactly where, but _somewhere, _there were people he wanted to find. His uncle, his aunt, the only friends he'd ever known...

Some day; _one day_, he'd see them again. But first, he needed to get out of here.

* * *

><p><strong>And there is the first part of what was originally "chapter three" but which I needed to uhh, break up a bit! Second part will hopefully be done shortly! I hope you like Kagami's misadventures, because there's more coming! And, just as a warning, I'm <em>really <em>loving writing his guards. He's really giving them quite the hard time! Hope you stick around for the next bit!  
>Much love<br>xx K**


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